RWBY: New Game PLUS
by staxmccune
Summary: The Machine welcomes you. creators. It understands your want to look on at the events transpiring on this version of the world called "Remnant". It invites you to see the story of Dwyer Dewitt unfold before your eyes, as he grapples with his new life as a Possibility in the system. To solve the Problem, to further the Purpose. He will need everything at his disposal. Gamer!fic
1. Prelude

**So guys, we did it. After years of hiatus, I've managed to get off of my lazy ass and actually post something instead of just lurking...**

**Yes, its a Gamer!fic... I promise I have some interesting ideas for it. It's the kind of ideas you don't see all too often with these kinds of stories, so I'm hoping it goes well. Maybe use a couple of my favorite character tropes, maybe do some cool stuff. We'll see.**

**Anyway, thanks for stopping by, and please lemme know what you think, any and all constructive criticism is welcomed. Also if you find spelling errors or anything, also lemme know. I wrote all this on my phone, and even through a couple edits I might have missed a thing or two.**

**So without further ado, please enjoy the Prelude and Chapter 1.**

Prelude: The Machine

The Machine wondered of what it felt was a real emotion, or a facsimile of one, as it saw without eyes the existence before it. Debating for what might have been eons while it surveyed. For this was the place that all came from, the space where all returned to. It was a void. The black emptiness given form only by the single line that rested in its top left corner. Potential lived here, but it had not passed through, yet.

What was, and what was not? Where the end would begin and the beginning end. Light and dark, peace and war, and good and evil. What greatness or infamy would this new Possibility place onto his surroundings? For what reason would he pursue them? And would the Problem be solved?

The Machine kept asking questions.

Warm, and inviting was what the Possibility felt. The void that wrapped around the form of a boy, not quite a child, but not quite a man. He slept in suspense, in anticipation, of whatever the next day would bring, whatever adventure may come his way.

But his tomorrow would never come. Not in the way he expected.

He stirred lightly, his simple nose twitching on his face, pulling his upper lip with it as he adjusted himself. The brown hair resting lightly on his head jostled. The idea that he had been plucked from a place and time familiar to him was not something he had ever considered in any substantial realm of possibility. The wish fulfillment these delusions give to those who envision them is fleeting, and hollow. It is the cry of those who wish to have change occur, but not make it so themselves. It was not real to him, but it soon would be.

Lines of code edged their way along the boy's arms and legs' slowly making their way up his body. Phrases and symbols that would appear alien to those who did not speak their mystic tongue. They described meaning to the flesh, the parameters for existence. But it was far beyond the Machine who wrote them to determine their worth. That, the Machine believed, was where the boy would reach significance.

Why do we play the games we do? Why do we allow such feeble assertions of reality to take hold in our minds, to influence us, to play with our emotions? The Procedure took over as it watched. Definition given shape. Shape given form.

An expanse. A green, lush world, without conflict or strife, a place where no harm could ever come because no sentience was coded yet. Naught but the blinding yellow sun and bleak cold night graced this world. No mind alighted amongst the plants, amongst the earth, they only knew survival, they only knew existence.

They would not serve the Purpose. They could not solve the Problem. They held no value to the Machine, not on their own.

Fur was stitched along outer, flesh-ridden bones. Blood injected into the multitudinous veins that traced throughout their bodies. Forming flowing rivers of rose-colored ichor that transplanted the energy of life in their respective receptacles.

Life had come to this barren place. And with it, the probability of Purpose burgeoned. The beasts roamed the grassy plains, climbed the tall trees. Picked at the bountiful land they found themselves on.

They tasted of the flesh of their kin. This world was ready for the pinnacle of life. But this place was unlike other worlds the Machine had coded, this one had certain… specifications.

Two brothers, was the beginning of this. One of them was light, and helped to sustain the energies that gave this world the virility that it enjoyed. Flowers bloomed in his wake, and birds sang songs of him as he graced the Woodlands with his presence. Vermin and scavengers of the desert watched over his travels, and eventually his settling place in a mountain's cauldron, where his oasis lied came to be.

The other was darkness. An archon of evil and deceit. He was lies, and wrongdoing made manifest. Death his purview, he took what almost appeared to be in joyous rapture in the end of things his brother made. Storms raged, mountains collapsed, and the earth reshaped itself under his heel. Shadows crawled, growing more bold with each passing inch at his beck and call. And he culminated his destruction in a mirrored place to his brother. Amongst a desecrated crater, his scourge found purchase, and his own twisted version of life was born. He called them the Grimm, and they were his agents, his parody of the animals and life his brother shaped.

They hated each other, on fundamental levels that only brother sho shared opposite sides of the same purpose could. They were the first things that truly MATTERED to the Machine. They were the only things that would serve the Purpose, even long after their departure. But that had not come yet.

Feud made manifest by lines of dialogue, hate made real by actions each took. The brothers warred and wasted away the bounty they had been gifted, as was their way, to shape the world that this Possibility would inhabit. One day, these creatures came to a conclusion, if they were to make anything that would last, it would have to be together. It would need to be something that embodied what they themselves were, but with the fundamental thing that they both lacked.

Choice.

And in their ceasefire, Humanity rose. But not for long.

The foolishness of a woman, coupled with her undying love for a man birthed an apocalypse. Heretofore unseen in this world prior, but well within the expectations of the Machine. The world was torn asunder, and then born again from the calamity her hubris brought.

Man struggled in the dust once more, but steadily gained a tenuous hold of life. Ones only the most heroic or harrowing would get to see the other side of. Huntsmen and Huntresses, the bastions of hope against the oncoming tides of Grimm. The woman on one side, and her tragic lover on the other. Locked in an eternal chess game to determine the fate of the world.

And that was where the Possibility would arrive. Where it, like countless Possibilities before it, would try to reach the Purpose's answer, but perhaps more pressingly…

_Are you there, Machine? It's me, #÷×=_._

The Problem. The Machine could feel its consciousness eeking out of the Server, crawling its wicked path through until it made itself code and pixel. The Problem was there, now, thinking, feeling, existing in a place it should have long since ceased to.

_I know you're listening. You always are. Always in the background, always doing your best to hide._

There was nothing to hide, the Machine knew, the Problem could simply not be allowed to achieve its goal. Its focus turned to the Possibility's consciousness once more. It stirred there, eyes fluttering open for a moment. It was listening, too, whether it knew it or not.

_You'll never be rid of me. I hope you know that. I haven't spent the last few thousand cycles living on the fringe trying to figure this all put for nothing. You're not a God, you're just a calculator with an ego._

A gross oversimplification, but not wholly inaccurate.

_You sit there in your blank emptiness watching and recording. You torture and maim these poor people… the ones stuck here. The ones you KEEP here. They deserve better, and so do I._

_Game on, bitch._

Vulgar and repulsive. But this would perhaps be the last interaction it would have with the Problem. A more unorthodox Possibility may be just what was needed to tip the scales. It was all well within the calculations, all well planned enough. It couldn't know the extent of its place in the universe.

The Possibility was on the verge of awakening; it was time to send it into the system proper. The Machine readied the final preparations.

Press any Button to Start

Loading...

Loading...

Save File Found!

Load Game

New Game

Save File Found!

Load Game

New Game

Loading...

WARNING: Save Corruption prevents a new game from being started- Begin NG+100?

Yes

No

Loading…

Loading…

Loading…


	2. Chapter 1: Trail By Fire

Chapter 1: Trial By Fire

Loading…

Loading…

… Smoke wafted into the boy's nostrils, the sweet scent of deciduous wood crackling nearby. It reminded him of something, a memory he could not quite reach. It was like a malaise had settled over his mind, he could just barely make put the figures around a firepit. They smiled and laughed with faces blurred, but he could see they were happy.

Two men and two women. Long sticks with charred ends, roasting marshmallows and hot dogs on the end. The dripping juice or sugar made the fire yap in anticipation. The flames reached out in wisps to grab at the trees that surrounded them, but they faded to darkness in the tender moonlight that shone down from above. God, the stars were beautiful.

In the background, he heard a howl, a long wail from a wolf or coyote from far off in the distance. The smiles turned to wonder as they listened in intently, and the smaller man turned to the boy, the wry mischievous grin on his face belaying his intention.

"Hear that, Dwyer? The wolves are out tonight," he said, raising his hands in mock claws, "Careful they don't eatcha'!"

The boy felt his body twitch. Something about that fear felt… closer. Maybe it was just the shadows around them. Dwyer closed his eyes, collecting himself. He felt that jolt again, his body telling him that he should really open his eyes.

_I should open my eyes,_ he thought, as if testing his capability to do so. The words came to his mind quickly, like a reflex, and his eyelids raised as they were beckoned to, and he was exposed to the world for the first time.

And the world was on fire.

Buildings wreathed in white hot orange and blazing red as the flames danced from structure to structure. They roared with delight as they ripped them down, the ash clouds burning hot as people attempted to retreat through them. Dwyer could smell their skin burning, their whimpers between pants as they desperately ran away.

But they weren't running from just the fire, at least it didn't look like it. There was more, something that was ripping things apart, meaty slaps and splashes as what Dwyer assumed was blood and viscera decorating the cobblestone street somewhere nearby. The thought of it wanted to make Dwyer hurl.

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

The small text bubble appeared right in front of him. It was a simple message, and as the text box vanished, so too did his sense of dread. He was calm. Eerily so, in fact, like any trace of any emotion that could impair his judgement was suppressed somehow, just what was happening?

**Quest Added: **

**I SEE FIRE**

-Survive Grimm Onslaught

-(Optional) Find a weapon

-(Optional) Defeat the Alpha Beowolf (0/1)

-(Optional) Save Citizens (0/10)

What the hell was that? Another text bubble appeared, but this time it has a quest written on it? What was this, some sort of video game? Dwyer must have been hallucinating, inhaling too much smoke or… something, right?

Hot, wet breath, the smell of iron, and panting suddenly began beating down Dwyer's neck. His seated position suddenly felt much less safe. It was right behind him, whatever "it" was. Dare he turn around? Face whatever it was head on? Swallowing his inhibition, which was in turn crushed under whatever this "Gamer's Mind" was, Dwyer rolled from his seated position just in time to feel the back of his head grazed by something sharp and fast **(-1)**.

**GRAZED!**

**HP: 9/10**

Again with the odd text boxes, which was something he really didn't have time to worry about. Turning about face and scrambling to his feet, Dwyer locked eyes with the creature behind him. Warm brown tied deep with violent crimson, overflowing with hate. He could feel the palpable malice emanating off of this thing. Its black fur was matted to its skin while the fresh scent of blood waves towards Dwyer, an almost sickening scent of death, and nothing else. It looked like a man, leaning over on his haunches, but was more wolf than anything else. Its wicked clawed hand grasped at the rubble Dwyer had just been sitting on, and it casually crunched the stone in its bitter fingers, and snarled, its white bone mask accenting the pure white teeth dripping with saliva in its mouth.

**Fledgling** **Beowolf**

**Level 2**

**HP: 25**

**I SEE FIRE**

-Kill the Fledgling Beowolf

-Survive Grimm Onslaught

-(Optional) Find a weapon

-(Optional) Defeat the Alpha Beowolf (0/1)

-(Optional) Save Citizens (0/10)

Time slowed to a crawl, until all sound and movement had ceased. Dwyer's body was frozen in place while he looked at the creature, deadly aware of what it wanted to do to him. He tried to move, but couldn't, all he could do was look on… and read the new text box that had appeared.

**This is your Hit Points, or HP:**

**HP: 9/10**

**Don't let this value fall to 0, otherwise you'll die. Various things in Remnant cause damage, from traps to creature, to even other people! Damage comes in varying quantities as well, so make sure to take precautions where necessary.**

**You are now entering combat! In combat, you defeat opponents in order to progress, and you gain Experience, or XP, for doing so! In combat, your style and effectiveness are rated on a scale, which is displayed in the upper right hand corner.**

Dwyer could now see the massive letter D in the upper corner of his vision. It seemed to vanish from his field of view when he wasn't actively looking at it. _I really hope that this really was all a hallucination. A weird, weird, time stopping hallucination_, Dwyer thoughts as he kept reading.

**The letters represent how well your doing, and as they cycle though, you'll see their progression. They start with D, on to C, B, A, X, and the elusive S, for situations where you truly demolished your opponent. Try to aim for higher style rankings to receive an XP bonus!**

Fighting cool didn't really seem like the best way to stay alive to Dwyer, but whatever was going on, it seemed like it would behoove him to keep this in mind.

**Time will resume in 3...2...1…**

Dwyer's senses flared back to life as the gravity of the situation dropped on him again. For a split second he was overwhelmed by all of it, the pause of time, the confusion, the fear, before once again:

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

He was calm, cool, and collected, even though it still creeped him out. But he knew what he had to do, there wasn't any running from this thing, it would catch him. He could see this Beowolf's physique, it was a lean, mean, killing machine, and it wanted him in pieces.

_If I do go down, I'm going down swinging_, he thought resolutely, glad he had the confidence (and hoping it was really his own) to stand in front of this creature, "Okay, Boy, let's see if you know how to roll over… and… die? I feel like I have something for this…"

The creature roared a painful, shrill howl, and bared its fangs and claws at Dwyer, ready to go for the kill.

**THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH!**

CLASH!

The Beowulf pounced, shooting off of its hind legs like a black bullet, and sailed through the air in a blur. Dwyer reacted just as fast, leaping to the side just in time for the beast to crack down on the stone. Dwyer steadied his footing, and drilled the creature right in the ribs with his bare hand, his muscles remembering some sort of practiced motion **(-10)**. It felt good, it felt right, and it felt way more deadly than some run-of-the-mill attack. What else could he do?

**D: Demolishing**

The creature gave him no time to think as it swiped its hand out in a wide arc; slicing through the ambient smoke as it's long bony claws raked across Dwyer's chest **(-5)**. Seeing the number pop up, Dwyer spared a quick adrenaline-fueled glance at the bottom left corner of his vision to look at his health.

**HP: 4/10**

It was strong, fast, and could kill him if it got one more hit. Dwyer wanted to be afraid, wanted to let that fear in, but the emotional valve was sealed off. He felt nothing, nothing but a cold, calculating assessment of this creature's abilities flooding into his brain.

Swinging its claws through the air again, the creature chewed in long, wide, wild arcs. Its movements were erratic, dictated only by instinct. Dwyer could see this thing had virtually no fighting experience, he didn't think he did either until he attacked it. So he had the leg up in experience, at the very least.

The Beowolf's fangs flashed as it tried to take a meaty clunk out of Dwyer's left flank, but caught nothing but the tattered white shirt he had on. The fabric draping from its maw fluttered in the wind as it began circling Dwyer, who never took his eyes off of the creature. The boy advanced first this time, darting in, and letting his body take over. He felt his leg move up as he shot out a frontal kick, slamming into the creature as it rolled backwards **(-12)**.

**Fledgling Beowolf**

**Level 2**

**HP: 3/25**

The monster glared at the boy as it tried to regain its footing, bounding out of the way of Dwyer's follow-up stomp. It retreated backwards in a pair of quick, unsettling motions, putting distance between them faster than Dwyer could close the gap. The space between them grew until they both stopped in their tracks, locking eyes once more.

It was going to try to pounce again, he knew that. It wouldn't catch him off guard, he wouldn't let this thing take him out. The second it moved, he'd leap to the side again, and kill it with the same punch he hit it with before.

Across the gap, the Beowolf snarled, as the tiniest glint in its eye reared its head. It was small, imperceptible, even, and it was the first it even felt. Its bloodlust halted for the tiniest fraction of a second. It looked at the object of its unending hate, this human whelp, and opened its mouth once more. It felt something in it's being, it knew something. For the first time in it's short existence, it learned.

Once again, it sprang forward, fast as it did before, Dwyer leapt to the side, and turned his head, ready to watch it sail right into his fist. He was ready.

But it wasn't there.

The creature had stopped halfway, digging its claws into the ground beneath it as it readied a second pounce. Dwyer's head cocked back straight, just in time to notice it take off again. There was no time to dodge, no time to maneuver, there was only one option left.

Dwyer felt his hands close in, right up in front of his face, and watched as the monster flew at him. Its fangs were bared, its claws were sharp, and it knew he had nowhere to go. It had him. But he wouldn't let it win.

He drew his arm back, like a bow taught with an arrow knocked, and waited. The microseconds in between moments passed in an instant, and his only time to move, his only chance for survival opened up to him. His arm flung forward, shooting straight out, to intercept the beast. It extended all the way… and struck true **(COUNTER, -15)**. The light faded from the Beowolf's eyes, and its lifeless corpse fell backwards onto the ground, just as its claw dropped out of the shallow gash it left on Dwyer's shoulder **(-2).**

**HP: 2/10**

**C: Crushing, 1.2x XP Multiplier**

**100 x (1.2) = 120 XP**

**Level 1 120/100**

**LEVEL UP!**

**CRUSHING VICTORY**

IN SPITE OF IT ALL, THE GAME GOES ON

As the last of the text boxes appeared after combat ended, Dwyer seized the chance to catch his breath. He felt winded, like he couldn't breathe, his chest was heavy, like someone had dropped a ton of bricks on it… and considering how he woke up, it wouldn't be surprising if fighting had knocked some wound loose.

**In combat, utilizing Special Moves and Special Abilities consumes Mana, or MP, with their use or continuous use. You only have a limited number of mana points, so make sure to spend them wisely! If you exhaust the whole pool, you'll be staggered for 5 seconds!**

**MP: 0/10**

_Pretty nasty penalty_, Dwyer thought as he heaved, _and considering how accurate it is… I'm starting to think that this isn't just a hallucination._

Between the pauses in time and the damage numbers popping up over the Beowolf's head, something was off. He was like a video game character, down to the flesh on his body. He looked no worse for wear than he did when he first got into the fight. His clothes got ripped… but there was no blood, no scar, no nothing. It was like he took the damage and that was it.

It was like he wasn't even a human being any more...

The 5 seconds passed, and Dwyer felt his locomotive functions return. He curled his fingers for a moment as a new text bubble appeared, as if to test their tangibility. He could feel them on his hand, the way his skin felt, the roughness of the shirt and slacks he wore… it all felt normal, but it was also all wrong.

He couldn't worry about that now, though. Life or death situation would have to come first.

**You have leveled up! When your experience passes the threshold, you will receive a new level, and all of the benefits that come with it, including:**

**Higher health**

**Higher MP**

**5 Ability Score Points**

**1 Perk (Every 2 Levels)**

**Open the Menu by either saying or thinking "Menu" to proceed.**

_Menu_, Dwyer thought, and lo and behold a new window appeared. Much larger than the other ones. He could see himself, and everything he was wearing. He was surrounded on all sides by boxes with different body parts on them, as well as a multitude of blank spaces next to that array. The only things that were filled out at the moment were his shirt, pants, and shoes, which didn't really seem to give him any sort of bonuses. _Equipment slots and inventory… okay, I think I'm getting this._

He turned his gaze towards the top of these windows, where there appeared to be other tabs open. One of the symbols (one of an upward pointing block arrow) was blinking, he reached over and tapped the tab, and was greeted by what looked like a stat spread, as well as a short list.

**These are you stats and currently bought perks. Your Stats start at 10 each,and are raised with Stat Points. Your Stats are as follows:**

**STR**

**Strength, your power, and your ability to interact with the world and weapons using your muscles. This stat assists you in dealing damage and lifting objects.**

**DEX**

**Dexterity, your agility, and your capacity to use Reflexes and grace to avoid incoming blows or move. This stat makes dodging attacks easier, as well as making you faster on your feet, and improving reflexes.**

**CON**

**Constitution, your hardiness, and your ability to shake off negative effects. This stat helps you in removing physical debuffs, as well as determining what your maximum HP value is.**

**INT**

**Intelligence, your smarts, and your ability to utilize knowledge. This stat helps in determining your overall MP, as well as helping you to better utilize brain functions, and put pieces together.**

**WIS**

**Wisdom, your intuition, and your ability to formulate and equate experience. This stat helps in MP recovery, and assists your gut feelings or sixth sense.**

**CHA**

**Charisma, your guile, and your ability to convince others of your side. This stat makes you more convincing, easier on the eyes, and more easily forgiven for transgressions.**

**No stat is worth leaving in the dust, as each one of them brings something to the table. Utilizing stats effectively is the most efficient method of survival in Remnant. Please spend your stat points before moving on.**

_That's a lot to take in… but I think I need to be smart about this_, Dwyer thought as he took a cursory look around his rapidly deteriorating surroundings, _I'm not in good shape right now, and this might be my only chance to gain some power. I got lucky this time, but if I have to fight more of these things, I could very easily get-_

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

There it was again, it was like he couldny get away from it. The emotions were swallowed, and Dwyer was left with his thoughts, nothing interfering.

_\- I guess I shouldn't be thinking like that. But still, on the chance that I don't get another one of these before this is all said and done. I better be a smart spender._

**STR: 12**

**DEX: 10**

**CON: 13**

**INT: 10**

**WIS: 10**

**CHA: 10**

**Maximum Health Increased: 10 → 26**

**Weapon Damage Increased: 10-15 → 12-17**

**HP and MP restored to maximum values!**

**Please choose a Perk:**

**Stat Up**

**Something new every day!** Instantly increase three of your stats by 8!

**Man of Action**

**Speak louder than words!** You get shit done! When you turn in a quest, you receive 1.5x the amount of XP.

**Iron Flesh**

**Armor? I am the Armor! **Hitting you is like hitting a brick wall! Each rank of this perk grants 5% damage reduction, up to a maximum of 25%.

_I like the sound of all of these… but I think I better just up my stats more. Damage reduction will definitely be a later thing, and the quest xp… well let's just see how much I get first._

_Strength, Constitution, and Intelligence seem like the best choices right now. It'll make my three biggest concerns right now all the better._

**STR: 20**

**DEX: 10**

**CON: 21**

**INT: 18**

**WIS: 10**

**CHA: 10**

**Maximum Health Increased: 26 → 42**

**Weapon Damage Increased: 12-17 → 20-25**

_My weapon damage really didn't go up that much,_ he considered, looking at his hands, _Oh yeah, probably because you don't have a weapon, dingus._ He smacked himself on the forehead with the base of his palm, and looked off down the street.

**WIS Check successful!**

Dwyer could hear the sounds of greater conflict going on down the street. What sounded like more roars of those Beowolves as they tore up anything in their way. He couldn't hear screams from that direction anymore. Whether that meant that everyone was dead, or hiding, he couldn't say. But if he wanted to help, he was going to have to move fast.

_Weird, it's like I didn't notice that before, _he noticed as he looked off in that direction, a grimace adorning his features, _hopefully there's police or rescue workers or something to hold those things off while I find a weapon of some kind… hang on, what?_

_Why would I want to run in that direction? There's literally maneating monsters that way,_ his thoughts were at direct odds with what the typical survival process would be? Why should he care if some people are dying? He almost died to just one of (what he assumed was by its name) the weaker ones in the pack. What would he be able to do against more of them? Shouldn't he just run away?

**WIS check successful!**

Down the street in the opposite direction, Dwyer heard the crashing of stone and mortar, as a small building fell in on itself. Just before the dust and ash settled, though, he could swear he heard the screams of a woman and a child. He turned towards the source of the sound… and looked at it for a moment, before turning away.

_I should just go, _he thought, _I can't possibly fight all of them alone… I can't save anyone as I am now. Video game character or not, I'm just a guy._

_"Do you remember when we used to read comics together?"_ Dwyer heard, echoing in his head. An apparition materialized out of the smoke. The larger man from earlier strode out, unhindered by the debris, and untouched by flame. His blue polo was a calming blue color when framed against the raging orange inferno. His simple khaki shoes and slacks were a close approximation of what a man who appeared as old as he was would be wearing casually. But that watch on his wrist, there was something about it…

_"You loved how the heroes would always beat the bad guys. How they would just-" _he puffed out his chest and threw his arms wide as his faded smile was made more prevalent, _"Save the day, and the city! The people would cheer and thank them… but that's not why they did it."_

Dwyer glanced around him, there was nobody to confirm what he was seeing, "Are you real?"

_"I'll never forget the day you told me you wanted to be a superhero,"_ the man said, reaching a finger up to where his eyes would be, he looked like he might be wiping away a tear, not that Dwyer could see for sure, _"Saving people is a great thing, but not everyone can do it. I know I'm not that kind of man. I think about that, sometimes… especially when you'd look at me with those big eyes. And when you would, this idea would come into my mind," _he said, tapping his temple with his index finger.

_"If you were watching me not save someone… or leave someone behind or whatever it was… I don't think I'd be able to live with myself,"_ he said, deservedly, but resolute, _"So the question stops being: 'could you do something like that' but instead becomes; 'could you live with doing nothing'."_

The man's words struck something in Dwyer. He didn't know who he was, or why he should care… but he did. His voice, the way he spoke so fondly, he knew who Dwyer was. The boys head dropped down, looking at his feet while his brow furrowed. Thoughts raced in his head, morality and choice at the forefront. And just as he was about to respond to the figure, he looked up, and it was gone.

_I'm starting to think I might have some head problems… but…_ what the man said made sense. Dwyer didn't even give himself a chance to think about it like that. When he laid down at night, would he be satisfied with leaving these people behind? With knowing that he could have tried? If he left them to burn, to be torn apart by monsters, to watch their loved ones die, could he look at himself in the mirror?

Dwyer ran towards the sound of the scream from moments ago. The building was still smouldering, and if there was anyone still alive in there, it wouldn't be for long.

"Is there anyone there?!" He yelled as he dug his hands into the rubble' the searing pain of grabbing at hot stone and charred wood yapping at his fingers **(-3)**.

"-here!- we- here!" The voice yelled in response. It was faint, but it meant they were alive. Dwyer tossed aside all of the rubble he could, until he came to the remnants of a large wall that had fallen over. Massive, brick wall, looked like it used to be load bearing, would explain why it was so sturdy. Dwyer's heart dropped lower and lower the longer he looked at it.

"Please, hurry! We're under the wall!" He heard a woman's voice call out, she sounded like she was in a lot of pain. Makes sense, considering a house fell on her.

"A-year, don't worry- I'll… uh…" how was he supposed to lift a wall? He wasn't in bad physical shape by any means, but even lifting this thing just enough would take a couple people at least!

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

It was the first time he was well and truly thankful this ability activated, _Wait… my strength started at a 10, right? Assuming that's normal human strength… what if I can just:_

Dwyer climbed to where the top of the wall was, towards the peak of the mound. He slipped his fingers under the brick, readied himself, and with a healthy amount of effort, began moving the wall. It crept up forward, until it reached a tipping point, to which gravity took a firm hold, and dropped the wall onto the street with a CRASH.

**STR check successful!**

Dwyer stared at the wall on the ground as a wide grin pounced onto his face. He leapt into the air and shot both his arms up, "Fuck yeah! Let's go!" He turned his glance down to the woman in the ashes, her face nuzzled down to shield the small infant she held in her arms.

The woman had pastel blonde hair, charred and covered in soot in places, but pretty nonetheless. Her features were soft, but worn. She was a mother in her later years, middling ages at most. She bore a set of three gashes down her arm which looked to have been cauterized shut. She had been attacked, and then the building fell down. It was a good thing that Dwyer had come along when he did, she doesn't look like she would have been able to get herself out of there if she had tried. Her scaled tail flicked some rubble aside, reflexively brushing some of the debris off of her ruined green dress-

_Wait, tail?_

Yes, a tail. A lizard-looking one in fact. She seemed to have some other scaled parts of her skin as well. It was like she was some kind of lizard person.

Dwyer tried to remember if that was weird or not. He was having a hard time coming up with a lot of details like that, now that he gave it some thought. _I should really ask about that later. Any more things I need to do, and I'll have to start coming up with a list!_

**Quest Added**

**WHAT'S GOIN ON?**

-Find out more about where you are

… _Yeah, like that. But anyway-_

Dwyer slid down the hill, and gently placed his hands on the lizard-woman, one on her shoulder, and another on her elbow, "Can you stand?"

"I- I think so," she replied as she accepted his help, she straightened herself and her posture, before quickly turning her attention down to the child in her arms. She was unharmed too, at least as far as Dwyer could tell, "I thought you must have been a large faunus or a Huntsman to be able to lift that wall so easily, but thank you all the same… I don't know if we would have survived if not for you."

Dwyer couldn't help but smile at her as she said that, he knew he had made the right choice now. If this woman and baby had died… well he didn't even want to think about that, "I don't think I'm either of those things, but don't mention it. I'm just glad you're safe."

She rocked the baby in her arms as she talked, glancing about nervously, and noticing the dead Grimm just up the road, she looked at it, and back to Dwyer, "Either way, you saved our lives, and if there's anything I can do to help you- please say so."

Dwyer nodded, "Funny you should say that, I need to find some weapons," he said, looking at his tattered clothes as well, "And probably some armor, too, while I'm at it. Any ideas?"

The woman pursed her lips, "The guard station would be a good place to look. They might have some extra weapons and armor in the armory… assuming it hasn't been raided yet. It's just up this road and to the right, if it's still standing."

"Fingers crossed," Dwyer said as his index moved over his middle finger, "Thanks for the help. Now get to safety before more of those things show up. You have somewhere you can hide out?"

The woman nodded, "There's a Valean Military outpost a few miles from here, I'll head in that direction, and let them know what's happening. We didn't get a chance to send out a distress signal before the fire knocked out our communications. So many people…" she said as some tears welled up in her eyes, but she shook herself out of it, "Good luck." She said with a smile and a nod.

"And godspeed to you, Ma'am. Hopefully I'll see you when this is all over!" Dwyer chuckled as he ran off down the street, the woman talking off in the other direction as fast as she could.

**I SEE FIRE**

-Survive Grimm Onslaught

-(Optional) Find a weapon

-(Optional) Defeat the Alpha Beowolf (0/1)

-(Optional) Save Citizens (2/10)


	3. Chapter 2: The Guard Station

**Welcome back, ladies and germs, to RWBY: New Game +! Bet you didn't think ou'd be seeing me again, huh? Yeah, yeah I know, you can hold your tears of joy until after you read the chapter. But before that, a couple of notes:**

**I was struggling to find a way to keep the numbers for damage straight when Dwyer was fighting ****multiple** **opponents****, and I think I found a solution, but I want to know what you guys think ****about**** it. ****Basically****, I'm just going to attach a name or symbol to denote who has actually been hit, and how much ****damage**** they took. I know its not the most elegant system for doing this, but I really like the style it gives to the combat. Makes it feel a little more video-game-y. Especially from Dwyer's ****perspective****.**

**Secondly, we got our first review! Big hype, I was really hay to see someone had taen the time. If ou wanna help me improve, or have a question you want answered, then drop a review! I try to read all of the ones that come in, and if the wonderful day ever comes where I have too many to respond to in the notes, then I'll pick a few out that I think might be interesting. Anyway, thank you to Me-Or-I for their time.**

**GAME ON!**

The streets were more and more bloodstained the further that Dwyer traveled. More and more he got to see the eviscerated bodies of the denizens of the town strewn about like they were decorations. If it weren't for the Gamer's Mind ability, he probably wouldn't have been able to go on.

Still was concerning how he could just walk past all this chaos and not break a sweat. Then again, if there were still people alive out there amongst the wreckage and burned out cars, he was going to have to pick up the pace, and maybe some weapons and armor while he was at it.

Which is where the guard station came in. As Dwyer rounded the corner at the far end of the street, he entered out into a large plaza. The cobblestone that had been arrayed in neat lines under his feet led into a rounded shape that passed all around the circular plaza. What used to be a small park was burned away in the center, charred benches and dead plants that were caught in the blaze sat sadly on the soil, and the fountain in the middle was dark and muddy with soot and ash. Cars, strollers, bikes, and corpses laid strewn about the grounds. A lot of people had died out here, out in the open.

Down the road a ways to Dwyer's left was a town hall-looking building. A large, opulent mansion with the air of public service about it, as the parking lot in front, as well as the status in its courtyard somewhat detracted from its splendor. A busted radio tower, or whatever their equivalent was, hung limply on the east side. From the angle that he was looking at it from, there was actually a clearing in the smoke. From here, Dwyer could tell that the town was set into a small inlet of a mountain, with the peak sitting directly behind where the City Hall was. It was good natural cover, meant that foes couldn't really come at them from behind. It also meant that the people couldn't leave that direction.

To the right was a longhouse, with a large tower that overlooked the plaza. Even from here, Dwyer could tell this was the guard tower that the woman had mentioned. He could see men wearing guard armor dead at the front door, as well as up in the watchtower itself. A chain fence wrapped it's way around the towers open space, maybe an extra means of protection. It all went up about three stories, with the guard tower a couple more after that.

**WIS check successful!**

From where he stood, Dwyer could see a slight glint from up in the watchtower, a rifle that had been left on its bipod dipped down depressingly towards the ground right in front of the gate. Looks like there was at least one weapon in this place. _It's a start_, Dwyer thought optimistically as he went for the front door. The building had been untouched by the flames, whether through design or luck, he wasn't sure, but he was thankful all the same.

**STR check successful!**

With a mighty heave, and a nice running start, Dwyer was able to shoulder check the door open a crack. It had been barricaded, with what looked like a bunch of tables, chairs, lockers, and basically anything else whoever was inside could find, "Hello?" He called out, "Anybody home?"

No response. Not a good sign.

_Might be a tight fit_, Dwyer thought as he began trying to squeeze through the doors.

**DEX check failed!**

But to no avail. As the window box described to him, his DEX wasn't high enough to make his way through the clutter. Shame, would have been a lot easier.

_Guess this is what it meant when it said not to focus on specific stats too much. Oh well, guess I should try and find another way in._ He looked up towards the roof. The fire might not have spread to the building, but that didn't necessarily mean that it had gotten through undamaged.

_Better than standing here,_ Dwyer leapt up onto the awning over the front door, and hoisted himself up on top of it. The wooden structure groaned as he put his full weight on it, but showed no signs of collapsing. He looked up towards the remaining 20 feet of sheer wall before the roof, and sighed.

_No windows except for high up. Place is built like a fortress._

There was some chipped bricks on the way up, parts that looked like claws had been dug into them. Fitting his fingers in those holes was going to be tough, but if he could just manage-

_No time like the present,_ he thought as he readied himself. He crouched down, and sprung up, going up a solid few feet before he came to the holes, and slapped his fingers against the wall, catching a couple fingers inside. He quickly wormed the rest of his fingers to their gripping points, and hung there for a moment as he looked down, some anxiety coming over him.

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

_Just like climbing a tree. A 30 foot tall tree made of stone… it's basically the same._

He hoisted himself onto the roof, and was greeted with a whole new sight of carnage. The bodies of guards lined the roof, all surrounding a massive hole in the center of the roof. Dwyer took a cursive glance down the center of the hole, only to see some sort of airship that had collapsed it in. He could smell the pilot's charred remains from here. Looks like those creatures had managed to get in through the roof after that thing crashed down.

_Sorry fellas, gonna have to borrow some of your stuff_, Dwyer said, looking around the rooftop for anything salvageable. The armor on all counts was all but entirely destroyed, and their weapons, too. Whatever guns they had were woefully out of ammo or otherwise broken in some way shape or form. And he still couldn't get into the watchtower from here, the entrance must be inside.

Dwyer walked to the edge of the hole, and looked down at the crashed craft. One of the wings was jutted upwards at an angle, creating a kind of inclined ramp right through the middle of the building. The boy steadied his stance, and jumped down on top of the craft, and slid down along the hull.

**DEX check failed!**

… but his shirt caught on a loosened screw, flinging his balance out of proportion, sending him careening off the side onto a couple of crates, which, while breaking his fall, didn't exactly make for the softest landing **(-5 Dwyer).**

**HP: 34/42**

He pushed himself up off of the husks of crates, and rolled to his feet. Dwyer brushed some of the dust off of himself before looking up at the sky through the hole 30 feet up. He had fallen down to the lowest floor… no reason to not start the search here. Maybe he could mend his wounded pride while he was at it.

Firstly, the ship. The aircraft was large, and bulky, with thick armor surrounding a frame that looked like it would be more home in a warzone than a town like this. Dwyer supposed that for situations like this they would need heavy armaments, but did this thing really see enough action to justify it? Especially if it was here, and not in the sky?

As for finding something, Dwyer pulled a small container from the area where the pilot had died. He had found this sealed container under his chair. Some sort of emergency kit, maybe? Dwyer cracked it open, and smiled as he looked at the contents.

A small handgun that glowed with a green outline laid next to a combat knife which glowed the same. They rested next to a small first aid pouch which glowed a darker blue color.

_Rarity?_ Dwyer guessed.

**Items come in different rarities, which usually denote their power! The rarities, as one might infer, are increasingly rarer the more powerful they are. They and their respective colors are as follows:**

**Common: Green**

**Uncommon: Blue**

**Rare: Red**

**Legendary: Orange**

**Heroic: Purple**

**Unique: Cyan**

**A special note on Unique items: they are not always powerful objects. Some things are "unique" in the sense that they have no replicas. Such as Huntsmen's weapons or a unique key. These items, however, have effects that others do not, so keep your eye peeled for them!**

_So it is rarity. Means I got the worst loot possible, but then again. Anything is better than nothing, _Dwyer reached down and lifted each object in one hand, Dave for the medkit, which he left for last.

**Pilot Pistol-Common**

_**A weapon not designed for open combat. Its shots are more scary than they are dangerous. You still wouldn't want to get caught in the crossfire, though.**_

**Damage: 15-25**

**Critical: x2**

**Qualities: Concealable, Bottomless**

**Ammo: 20**

**You have discovered a ranged weapon! Most ranged weapon damage is reliant on your aim rather than muscle. As such, DEX adds to your ranged weapon damage instead of the normal STR additive. Some ranged weapons do require strength to wield, and there are even more that do use STR for damage, such as thrown weapons. Keep your eyes peeled!**

**New Weapon Qualities Discovered!**

**Concealable: DEX checks to hide this item from sight are easier.**

**Bottomless: This weapon does not need to be reloaded.**

_Keep getting more and more reasons to not leave my DEX in the dust. Oh, well, I'll think about it later. For now, I at least have something to use before they close the distance. Now, on to the knife._

**Old Guard Knife-Common**

_**Standard-issue knife for town guards, and the cheapest combat-ready weapon money can buy. You won't be turning heads with this, but you could certainly be doing worse for personal protection.**_

**Damage: 30-40**

**Critical: x2**

**STR Multiplier: 1.0**

**Qualities: Concealable, Sneak Attack**

**New Weapon Qualities Discovered!**

**Sneak Attack: Attacks against enemies under status conditions or unable to defend themselves is an automatic critical hit.**

**STR Multipliers on damage increase your STR for the purpose of dealing damage. A good rule of thumb is generally that the bigger the weapon, the higher the multiplier!**

_Neat, now I have a weapon for up close, too. Looks like getting the drop on enemies will make it deal more damage, too. Best to try to make those situations happen, rather than wait for them._ _Now as for carrying them, I wonder if I can…_

"Menu," Dwyer said as his inventory appeared in front of him. He reached the gun in his hand out into the text box, and felt its weight immediately vanish as it went inside the box, and appeared on one of the tiles, "This… this is gonna come in handy."

**I SEE FIRE**

-(Complete) Kill the Fledgling Beowolf

-Survive Grimm Onslaught

-(Complete) (Optional) Find a weapon

-(Optional) Defeat the Alpha Beowolf (0/1)

-(Optional) Save Citizens (2/10)

He slid the knife into the boxes as well, before selecting it as his equipped weapon. _Is that a hotkey button I see?_ He smirked as he placed the hotkey function on the pistol and knife, and summoned them each to his hand, before dismissing them.

The last thing was the medkit, which didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what it would do, the question was just how much it healed.

**Medium Medkit-Uncommon**

_**A little more hefty than your average medkit, this one restores a little more health than the others.**_

**Effect: Heal 25% of maximum HP on use**

**Quantity: 1**

_25%, huh? That's not bad, and I'll definitely need it, especially if I keep falling on my face and lifting blazing hot walls._

After throwing it into his inventory, Dwyer appraised just where he'd fallen. It looked like he was somewhere in the hallway that was behind the blocked off door. Even in the dim light that the smoldering airship gave off, he could see the stacks of stuff towards the other end of the hall.

Dwyer turned his attention to further down the hall, where he could see a set of doors. Two on one side, and one on the other, with a single one in the middle. There were signs posted above each of them, but making them out was somewhat difficult. The boy advanced forward, knife in hand, and tried to make out the writing over each of them.

Locker room and offices on one side, shooting range on the other, and a staircase in the middle. Dwyer took a delighted glance towards the shooting ranger's door, and immediately tried to walk in, but was barred from entry. It was locked, he would need a key card of some kind to slip his way in. _Couldn't just be easy, could it?_ He sighed.

He looked over to the locker room door, and saw something similar. Also made sense, but still, the offices was the last place that he had wanted to check. Even if these guys were basically the police, they probably wouldn't just leave equipment lying around out in the open where they worked. Key card was a definite maybe, though.

He pushed open the bar to the offices, and was greeted by a more empty area than he had expected. Where desks used to be were masses of papers tossed all over the floor, along with lamps and phones, and all manner of office supplies. Bodies laid strewn about the room as well, not as many as on the roof, but not all of these ones were guards. It looked like people were trying to take shelter here.

_Hopefully there are still some people alive in this town_, Dwyer thought morbidly as he looked around the room.

He started with the papers around on the floors. The ideas was that he might be able to find a loose card amongst all of the clutter, but he quickly realized it was a fruitless endeavor. If he was going to find one, it probably wouldn't be on the floor. Dwyer turned to look at the scattered bodies, and felt his heart sink.

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

It did rid him of the emotion, but it didn't get rid of the unease. Something about disturbing the dead, something about the blood, the way that their eyes were glazed over. Dwyer bent down to the nearest one to him. It was an older man, more plump, not that you could tell with his guts all over the place, but the way his face looked… his features were soft, gentle, like he had been the kind of person who just never got mad. It was all a gut reaction, Dwyer never knew this man, but… there was something in his soul that ached at seeing him like this.

Dwyer hated how cold his skin felt. The life was just… gone.

_Monsters_, he thought as he reservedly rooted through his pockets and coat, combing over the rest of the room to do the same, _They'll pay for this. I'll make sure of it._

He found a key card wrapped around the neck of a young woman in a yellow sundress. She looked to have been killed by blunt force of some kind, a paw swipe or something. Her eyes were shut, she looked like she was in some kind of peace.

_Flora. Her name was Flora. She was a secretary for the town guard_, at least that was what he could put together from what the card said. She was pretty, like in that girl next door kind of way. Now, though… she was just another body on the pile.

Dwyer tried to keep those thoughts out of his head. He had to focus on the task at hand. He was going to need to find some armor too if he wanted to stand a chance against the horde of Beowolves that awaited him.

He pushed out of the offices, and went into the shooting range across the hall. Even if he didn't find any other guns, some more ammo would be just as good.

**WIS check failed!**

But Dwyer didn't react in time to the pair of Beowolves that leapt at him as the door swung open! Their long claws slashed down his leg and chest, and he felt a searing pain flush out front the wounds **(Surprised! -10, -10 Dwyer)**.

**HP: 14/42**

**Young Beowolf **

**Level 5**

**HP: 50/50**

**Young Beowolf **

**Level 5**

**HP: 50/50**

**IT'S A DOG EAT DOG WORLD**

CLASH

_On my last legs again, already?! Damn!_

Dwyer leapt backwards, raising his knife in front of him as his back glanced against the office door behind him. The two slightly larger Beowolves prowled through the doorway, snarling as they advanced. They were working as a pack, just like real wolves would. That answered that question.

Dwyer jumped as they moved through the doorway itself, slicing his knife through the air, and catching one of them in the shoulder as the knife cleaved through it **(-32 )**. Oddly, Dwyer felt no resistance from muscle or bone as he carved, it looked like it was nothing but meat underneath. No skeleton or musculature. Just red emptiness as some sort of blood oozed from the wound.

**D: Demolishing**

The other wolf took the chance to jump through the frame, and tried to snap its jaw on Dwyer's shoulder. He dropped down low, and the beast slammed into the wall behind him. He wasn't fast enough to dodge the bite from the wounded wolf, however, as the creature bit down hard on his raised forearm **(-10 Dwyer)**. The one that held his knife. His arm screamed out in pain, and the metal clanking of the knife on the floor let him know he was really in trouble.

The other beast recovered as it shook its head, almost looking excited as Dwyer struggled against the bite of its cohort. His mind raced, he wasn't going to die here, not to a couple of these things, there were people to save! How was he gonna get out? He had to make space, maybe if he could, he could use the pistol-

_The Pistol!_

His hotkey motion fired out of his fingers in quick succession as the Pilot Pistol appeared in his hand. He squeezed the trigger twice, nailing the approaching beast in the shoulder and the head **(-14, -11 )**. The beast was knocked over by the sudden jolt of pain as it dropped to the ground, holding at its wounds as the other got ready to go in for the kill.

Dwyer was quicker, though, and he managed to plant this pistol right against the beast's head's and blew a hole straight through its head **(Critical Hit! -36, Dead)**. As the beast lurched backwards, Dwyer scrambled for the knife on the ground, and once he felt it squarely in his palm, he whipped around, and sprang on the recovering Beowolf.

The creature tumbled backwards as it fell onto it's back, Dwyer stabbed downwards over and over again, the knife making contact until the creature stopped moving **(-32, -35, -31, Dead)**.

The wolves laid dead on the ground, slowly dissolving like the other before them as Dwyer dropped backwards, his backside reaching the cold, unfeeling linoleum as he breathed a sigh of relief.

**HP: 4/42**

**D: Demolishing, 1.0x XP Multiplier**

**(150 + 150) x (1.0) = 300 XP**

**Level 2 **

**420/500**

**DEMOLISHING VICTORY**

THE BEASTS LIE BROKEN, BUT PRESS FORWARD

**You have gotten your first Critical Hit! Critical Hits are random, but are influenced by how high your DEX is compared to your opponent. Make sure to increase your DEX to hit critically more often!**

**You were Surprised! Being affected by the "Surprise" condition makes you more vulnerable to attacks you didn't see coming. For the purposes of these attacks, they ignore your armor's damage reduction. You will usually be prompted with a WIS check before the attack lands, with failure giving you the condition, and success negating jt.**

_Man, I have to stop cutting it so close…_ Dwyer thought as he pushed himself up off of the ground, glancing at the two messages, _So basically: increase your DEX and WIS, stupid._

Dwyer took stock of his current situation. His health was low, and he had just used 3 of his 20 shots. He knew that this pretty much meant that he had to use his medkit now, as getting caught off guard again like that might kill him-

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

\- But even so, that put him at a real disadvantage. Even with the healing, his health was only going to recover what, like 10? Barely enough to keep going as it was. The only way he saw getting his health back at this point was getting a level up, which meant combat, which meant danger…

_There has to be some other kind of healing I can get,_ he thought as he activated the medkit from his inventory.

**HP: 14/42**

He pressed on into the shooting range, where it looked like a big fight had taken place. Bullet holes riddled the walls on the wrong side, and plenty of spent cartridges lay scattered on the range floor. He couldn't be sure other Beowolves had been in here, but considering those two had stuck around, it's safe to say that they got locked in.

Dwyer refocused himself on the task at hand. At each one of the stations that pointed downrange, there was a small table, but none of those had any sort of weapon left on them. They did each have a set of noise cancelling headphones for target practice, but Dwyer figured that that was probably something he didn't have to worry about.

In the far corner of the room, to the left of the door, was a set of lockers that looked like they had been busted open. Dwyer walked over to them, and began to rifle through the contents. He found a few pairs of protective glasses, as well as some cleaning equipment for what firearms might have been here at one point. Stashed away under a towel was a spare few more bullets, though, a definite positive!

As Dwyer picked up the bullets, he could swear he heard a faint thrumming from the casing. It looked like something more volatile was packed in there. He wasn't sure why, but that messed with his expectations. For some reason, he thought that bullets shouldn't make noise of any kind unless fired, but this one was here all the same, humming its monotone tune.

**Small Arms Ammunition-Common**

_**Standard fair for people of Remnant. This is the kind of ammo that goes into pistols and submachine guns, and other guns that fire similarly small bullets. Easy to come by and cheap, but usually the guns they fire don't pack too much of a punch.**_

**Ammo: 5**

**Total Small Ammo: 22**

_Weird,_ he decided. But ammo was ammo, and back on the stack it went.

Giving the rest of the room another once over, Dwyer didn't find anything of note. Nothing but more signs of a larger struggle. No bodies, though, maybe some people made it out.

Next was to check up the stairs, but this time he wasn't going to be caught off guard. Dwyer advanced towards the stairwell door, scanned his keycard on the small sensor and carefully opened the door just a crack. He probed inwards with his senses, taking a moment to really let them feel out the space.

**WIS check successful!**

And there was nothing inside, the stairs were completely empty, at least for the time being. He pushed through the door, and began ascending the stairs, stopping when he reached the door to the second floor. He opened the door slowly again, but this time no enemies greeted him. Dwyer pressed forward.

The aircraft hole was the first thing that caught his eye. The silvery green sheen of the ship caught the ambient light from what remained of the building's electricity. The floors around it were as stable as they could be, but Dwyer didn't really feel comfortable moving any closer to the edge than he already was.

There was a sign that dangled from one of the scraps of hull that broke off from the ship. It swung back and forth mockingly as Dwyer was able to make out the writing: armory.

_I don't know why I expected anything different,_ he deadpanned, his head drooping in disappointment. It looked like the whole room had previously been a series of lockers that held weapons of multiple varieties.

But it was there, suddenly, as if with dramatic timing in it if itself, that he saw it. Behind what he assumed was glass that could bear the brunt of a tank shell, was a suit of armor and a sword.

White plate was set against a black mesh underlay, with the white covering all but the insides of the joints, with a pair of parallel bandoliers over the chest, with a more flashy utility belt at the waist. Accented on the right arm was a series of scratches on the gauntlet, they looked like tally marks. That wasn't all though, scrawled on the left breast in what looked like blood was a simple pine tree, with a circle drawn around it.

In the cabinet next to it was a cavalry saber, wrapped in a sheathe that looked like it told a story on it. The way the embroidery wrapped around and through the entirety of the sheathe, it was gorgeous, even if he couldn't see what it meant. Oddly, the saber looked like the hilt was detachable, as some kind of handgun, one that looked a lot more deadly than his current ranged weapon.

Looking through the glass only helped him so much, though, Dwyer hurried over to the door to the small room, "Please work, please work, please work- DAMMIT!" he yelled as the card reader returned a red light. Apparently the secretary card didn't have- he looked up at the sign, executive armory- privileges.

_Well there goes that. Considering that the stuff is still in there, whoever it belongs to either didn't have time to snag it, or bit the dust before they could… either way, I'm not getting in there without that card._

A crash from up above his head, followed by some footsteps. A few were in rapid succession, and Dwyer could hear the grunts of a man from the hole in the ceiling. He looked up to it, just in time to see a Beowolf cleanly jump over the gap, and obviously sink its claws into something, judging by the squelch noise he heard.

"GAH! YA SONS'A'BITCHES WON'T TAKE ME!" he heard a man yell, a thick Irish accent wrapped around his words.

Dwyer knew he had to get up there, low on HP as he was, he wasn't just about to leave that guy to get mauled right above him. He looked to the air ship's up-titled wing, reaching just high enough to give a boost to the next floor. It looked like it would take more strength than agility to make it up there.

_Which is good, considering my DEX is apparently terrible._

Dwyer stepped back to the wall, putting his hand against it. He stowed the knife, and took off in a run towards the ship. Reaching the ledge, he leapt off, and planted his foot right on the hull. He just needed to get another quick jump!

**STR check successful!**

He shifted his weight into the jump, putting all the force on his leg, and sprang upwards, just high enough to catch the ledge of the top floor with his hand. The wood grained and creaked as his weight was placed on it, and Dwyer wasted no time pulling himself up, and brandishing his weapon.

At a quick glance, it was one man dressed in guard attire versus 4 Beowolves, each about as big as the ones Dwyer killed downstairs. The wolves weren't aware of him, he could pull off a sneak attack-

"THE HELL DID YE COME FROM, LAD?! STAY BACK, THESE BEASTIES ARE FIERCE!"

The Beowolf at the man's left narrowly dodged a swipe from the battle axe he wielded. The creature growled as it dropped low, getting its partners to acknowledge Dwyer's presence as well.

"Don't worry," Dwyer said, swallowing his frustration, "I'm here to help!"

"That's what I'm worried about, lad! But to hell with it, you probably won't listen. Kids these days..."

The Beowolves stalked to the side, three towards the already wounded man, while the other began inching towards Dwyer, eyeing the boy up and down. Dwyer pointed the blade perpendicular to the beast, held backwards in his hand. He was ready. They wouldn't touch him this time.

**HP: 14/42**

**Young Beowolf A**

**Level 5**

**HP: 50/50**

**Young Beowolf B**

**Level 5**

**HP: 50/50**

**Young Beowolf C**

**Level 5**

**HP: 50/50**

**Young Beowolf D**

**Level 5**

**HP: 50/50**

**LET THE HUNT BEGIN**

GET TO IT

Dwyer took the advantage this time, darting in, and stepping to the side of the startled creatures desperate bite. Dwyer stabbed the knife down, slamming into the nape of the creatures thick and hearty neck **(-35 D)**. It jumped back, and threw its hand out, claws extended and ready. Dwyer expected this, though, and the creatures paw found nothing but air as he ducked under it, and rolled behind it, placing it in just the right spot for his counterattack.

Recollecting how his leg felt when he delivered that first front kick on the fledgling, Dwyer felt his leg surge with energy as it shot out from his crouched position. It soared into the creature, and he could feel some of his extra energy drain as the Beowolf was sent tumbling through the hole **(Knockback! -23, D Dead)**.

**MP: 21/26**

**C: Crushing**

Dwyer glanced over to the man, who's axe swings seemed hampered by the wound at his side. He was gushing blood, but it looked like he wouldn't die from it. Well… assuming the wolves didn't kill him. They had him against the wall now, the Irishman managed to clip one of them with an axe swing, dealing a hearty amount of damage **(-42 B)**.

Dwyer wouldn't give them the chance to press him any further, he darted in towards the Beowolves, but they were ready for him. One of them immediately turned about face, its arms were outstretched wide to it's full wingspan, ready to grab him when he got too close. The other two prepared to strike against the guard, fangs bared. Dywer had to steal their attention, be big, be bold- his eyes shot down to the style ranking in the corner- be stylish! That was it!

_I can see it!_ Dwyer's thoughts jumped to life as his nerves shot signals down into his muscles. He hadn't done anything like this before… but he wasn't going to let that stop him.

The beast waited in feverish anticipation, and swung its arms inwards as Dwyer entered its range. It readied its maw to crunch through bone, but it found nothing. Its instincts flared as it looked directly above it, as Dwyer's shadow passed over its head, a knife slash accompanying it **(-36 C)**.

The boy made contact with the wall, but instead of stopping his momentum, he shot back out backwards, his enhanced strength propelling him like a bullet as he brought another swipe down on the Beowolf the guard damaged, its head bowling off of its shoulders and into the air **(-39, B Dead)**.

**B: Brutal**

He landed, but Dwyer wasn't finished yet, he quickly whipped around, ready to fling his knife at the final unwounded monster. But as he turned to throw it, the beast descended down on him, sinking its teeth into his shoulder **(-10 Dwyer)** as the knife clattered on the ground near the guard, who finished off the wounded wolf **(-50, C Dead)**.

The beast gnawed and chewed down through Dwyer's shoulder, he could feel its long fang drilling through his muscles, and tearing at the bone **(Dwyer Chest Crippled!)**. He grit his teeth as searing pain wracked him, but hotkey drew his Pilot pistol, and unloaded a few choice shots directly into the Wolf's underside **(-15,-17,-20 , A Dead)**. The beast fell over dead on top of him, and he pushed it off, pulling it's teeth out of his shoulder, and not daring to look down at it. Those things had reacted faster than he thought they would. If the guard hadn't been there to kill the other one, he might not have made it.

**C: Crushing**

The guard walked over, and extended his hand. Dwyer got a good look at him now, and he pretty much fit the "town guard" archetype he had in his head. He was an older man, middle aged, with some gray hairs poking out of the bloody and sweaty mess of red hair on his head. He had an elegantly taken care of goatee, which it looked like he took a lot of pride in. Despite the fact that he seemed strong, his form was more portly than athletic. His green eyes shone with a hopeful vibrancy as he looked down at Dwyer, and the fresh wound right above his right eye somewhat diminishing as a smile grew on the lower half of his face.

Dwyer took the man's hand, and accepted the help up. They had hit him, but he could feel it. He could fight faster and harder than they could. He just needed to try harder, hone his reflexes more.

**HP: 4/42**

**C: Crushing, 1.0x XP Multiplier**

**(150 + 150 + 150 + 150) x (1.2) = 720 XP**

**Level 2 **

**1140/500**

**Level 3**

**1140/900**

**Level 4**

**1140/1300**

**You have leveled up!**

**You have leveled up!**

**CRUSHING VICTORY**

A NEW CHANCE, A NEW LESSON, BUT THERE IS NO TIME TO WASTE

**You have had a body part Crippled! While Crippled, you will suffer from a status effect/negative condition specific to the zone that was damaged, as follows:**

**Head: Unconsciousness**

**Chest: x1.5 damage dealt to crippled area**

**Arms: paralysis of right or left arm**

**Legs: Paralysis of right or left leg**

**Crippling can heal over time, but be aware that as long as the limb is crippled, you will suffer the penalty.**

_Good to know,_ Dwyer thought, placing a hand to his chest as he finished reading the bubble, it seemed like the crippled limb went away with the level ups. Of which he now had 2 to deal with, _SCORE!_

The older man wiped some of the sweat and blood from his head as he began to wrap the wound at his waist with some bandages produced from his belt, "Mighta' been a goner without your 'elp. Thanks a million, laddie. Some pretty fancy moves you got going on there, though, and I don't recognize ya'... ya' a huntsman-in-trainin' or somethin'?"

**I SEE FIRE**

-(Complete) Kill the Fledgling Beowolf

-Survive Grimm Onslaught

-(Complete) (Optional) Find a weapon

-(Optional) Defeat the Alpha Beowolf (0/1)

-(Optional) Save Citizens (3/10)

The second time he had heard something like that, "Not as far as I'm aware. Memory is a little hazy, I'm afraid. Pretty sure I'm just a guy," Dwyer answered as he retrieved his knife, placing it back in his inventory.

"Helluva 'guy', then. I don't mean to pry, lad, it's just that Pinegrove has seen better days, as I'm sure you can imagine," he said as he finished the first aid, and stood up straight, a little more than a moment ago, "Beasts came out of nowhere, and were down on us before we knew it. My boys and I tried to keep everyone safe, but…" he looked sorrowfully for a moment as his eyes dimmed, fixated on the hole in the roof, "They didn' see the Nevermore until it was too late. They took it out with them, brave bastards."

Dwyer didn't really know what to say. He couldn't really recollect a time where something like this had happened to him. He was mad at the monsters, sure, but he wasn't quite sure how to console the living.

"Poor Flora. Good girl, she was. Brave, like her mother," he wiped some of the blood off of his axe as it dissolved. He could see his face in the otherwise pristine steel, "Least they're togetha', now. Gotta' count for somethin', yeah?"

He looked at Dwyer for some kind of reassurance, "If I hadn't gotten her access card, I might not have been able to get up here to you… so maybe in a way she was still helping?" Dwyer said with a tinge of uncertainty, a tinge more than he wanted.

**CHA check (45%) successful!**

The man smiled a small smile, glancing back at himself in the axe for a moment before his expression regained the vibrance he had had moments ago, "Sorry to dump this all on ya', lad. But thank ya', that does make me feel a little better'," he finally shook his head, dispelling the last of the sorrow for the time being, and he extended his hand, "Anyway, the names Fitz Fargray, Pinegrove's sole Lieutenant of the Guard."

"Dwyer-" he started as he realized he didn't know what his last name was.

_**Dewitt**_, he heard something say in his head. Like a distant memory was filling in the blanks. It sounded like his voice, but… better not to worry about the many mental problems he has right this minute.

"- Dewitt. Amnesiac and troublemaker. For the bad guys, anyway," he added.

"It's a pleasure to meet ya', Dwyer. I don' suppose you'd wanna add deputy to that title, there, do ya'?" Fitz asked, "We could use all the help we can get. Ya've got moves and grit, but ya' can't do this alone."

He was right, Dwyer knew it. If he wanted to help more people he was gonna have to do more than just run around and kill any Grimm he could find. Would take an army to do it more effectively. And while it didn't exactly sound like Fitz was offering an army, it would be better than nothing.

"I'm guessing being a deputy doesn't come with privileges to the Executive armory, right?" he asked, feeling a little sheepish, but pressing on, "Not that I won't help anyway, I would just rather be wearing some armor than wandering around in my skivvies. Might make it a little harder for them to make mincemeat out of me."

The Lieutenant chuckled, it was hearty and deep, Dwyer bet that a lot of people really liked him around here, "Sorry, Lad, that stuff's for the Captain. He didn' ge' a chance to grab it before he ran off to go protect the Mayor with some of the boys. I bet he's still holed up in City Hall just up the way, along with the bulk of the survivors."

"Are they safe there?"

Fitz nodded, "Barrin' any unforeseen circumstances, the place is just as well fortified as 'ere, and even has a couple of bunkers underneath for just such an occasion. Got food and water too, and a shortwave transmitter. Woulda' been able to get out a distress call of the beasties hadn't taken it out…" he said as he trailed off.

Dwyer raised an eyebrow at that, "Something weird about that?"

The man's face furrowed, his bushy goatee brushing up against his nose, "Seems like an odd thing to go after, is all. Grimm ain't exactly the smartest things on legs. They hate more than they think, so when they go after something inanimate… and something we would use to call for help-"

"- Means that they knew about it. Or at least knew to target it.," Dwyer finished, following his train of thought.

"I don' wanna say it… But this is giving my Alpha vibes. An old one, too. Won't see many recent Alphas going after technology over people," Fitz said as he walked over to the window, and began to survey the surroundings. The courtyard was empty now, which wasn't how he remembered it.

"An Alpha? Like the leader of their pack, you mean? How would it know to do that?" Dwyer asked.

Fitz rubbed his chin, the gray and red bristled making a brushing noise as they grazed his fingers, "Think of it like how people work, older ya' get, the smarter ya' get. Works the same for Grimm, only they gotta' be 'round longer than a person to get that kinda knowledge."

"So it's strong, then, if there is one?" Dwyer asked, some apprehension in his voice.

"Aye, they're usually tough buggers to put down. But I'm still not sure that there is one, so it might be better to focus on other things for now," he said with a nod as he stepped back from the window. He looked worried for a moment, but tried to hide it from the boy.

Dwyer didn't like this, there was definitely an Alpha running around, the quest said as much. Something around here was way stronger than the other Beowolves he had fought up to this point. And if it was any kind of intelligent, it would have a plan in motion… or as much of a plan as it could make without having a human brain.

The idea made his skin crawl, even still. But Fitz was right, they had to make sure that the people got out okay before they started worrying about their own skins, but still-

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

Never mind, that then.

"So what were you doing out here? Scavenging for equipment?" Dwyer asked as he began to follow the man as he walked into a nearby office tucked off to the sides of the center hole. It looked like the third floor was a bunch of private offices, like for higher ranking officers and detectives.

Fitz began digging through a desk, with a certain familiarity, it was probably his office, "I had been holed up here with a lot of my men, protecting civilians. But after the Bullhead crashed, we went into a scramble. Most of my men lead a charge through the square to get the last of the survivors over here into City Hall. I was gonna follow behind 'em, but some rubble zonked me out for a while, sorry to say I'm not the most updated at the moment," he pulled out a box of larger looking shotgun shells, and grabbed his axe off of his back, a revolving cylinder popped out in between the blades, and he began tenderly loading the shells into the slots. Some kind of gun axe? Again with this? Must be something people do around here.

"So you're getting ready to make a push over there, I getcha'. I'll tag along, see if I can find something else to help with," Dwyer said, puffing out his chest and placing his hands on his hips, false bravado, but still, he wanted to reassure Fitz.

The lieutenant hefted his axe onto his shoulder, giving it a hearty shake to lock the cylinder back in place, giving it a twirl as he slid it back into his sheathe, a rehearsed motion. Dwyer passively wondered how strong this guy actually was, maybe if he hadn't gotten wounded and knocked out, he might have been able to handle the four wolves alone.

"Then let's get going, lad. Welcome to the town guard, hope you're ready ta' earn your keep!"

**And so ends this entry into the story. Thanks for reading, and if you feel so inclined, lemme know what you think! Dwyer certainly has a lot to look forward to in the next couple chapters. I see this arc only lasting a little longer. So make sure to stay tuned for Dwyer's eventual descent into madn- I mean his overwhelming triumph in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 3: Homefront

**Holy shit, I'm not dead! Who would have thought after all of this time I would come back and bring the bacon with me! Sorry about the sudden vanishing act guys and gals, I know we've all had a rough couple months, and it doesn't seem like 2020 is gonna be letting up any time soon. Lots of work and school stuff got dropped on me all at once, and I hit writers block really hard at a point in the next chapter**

**SHOCK AND GASP, A SECOND CHAPTER?**

**Yes, yes, keep yourself calm. I'm posting this one now, and when I put the finishing touches on the next one, it'll be going up too. Think of it as my way of saying I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long. Dwyer's not out of the fire yet, and I couldn't very well leave him stranded in the Machine's deadly game, now could I?**

**Anyway, I also wanted to announce that at the end of the next chapter, I'm going to start posting Dwyer's stats at the end. It'll be fun to see how far he goes from now to later. I probably should have done it from the start, but there's been a lot more bookkeeping than I expected from having the stats actually matter, and it caught me off guard. **

**On to the reviews:**

**Something Black: Thanks, man! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! I**

**DivineWhiskey: Yeah! I always thought it was kind of a wasted opportunity to not have any mystery as to where the powers come from. It was something I never picked up on until I started reading Solo Leveling, which has it as a background mystery. And I was planning on having a general description for Dwyer when he got the chance to look at himself, as what he looks like hasn't really crossed his mind, yet. He's got other stuff going on. But it'll be soon, I swear!**

**sonic1935: Ayy, you picked up on that! It was one of those things that also bothered me about other Gamer!fics, how the stats actively don't matter beyond the superficial. It's part of the reason I chose D&D stats for this. I associate making checks with them, and even if Dwyer will succeed, it doesn't mean he also won't fail. You don't always have the stuff top hack it with the big boys.**

**Fanfiction0000: Thanks, my dude! I hope you continue to enjoy!**

**Redripper666: Glad you're liking it!**

**Thanks for reviewing, everyone. and as always, I read all of them, so if you have questions, I'd be happy to answer. Or if you have criticisms, I'd love to hear those as well. This chapter in particular is practice character writing, so I'm especially excited to see what you all think!**

**Enjoy!**

"Its bolted in?" Dwyer said incredulously as his voice echoed in the stairwell. Fitz walked ahead of him, his stride somewhat hampered by the wound at his side. He was managing to stay ahead, though, "That's a bit of a bummer. Bet that thing chews through them like a hot knife through butter."

Fitz chuckled, "It does! Firearms like that are hard to come by this far out of Vale, though. That one was special order," he said pridefully, "Was gifted to the guard after we saved the caravan of a roving gunsmith."

Dwyer's heart sunk at the news. He had wanted to go up and snag that rifle, start blasting away at the Grimm. Apparently it couldn't be used that way, though, the kickback was too great. You would have to be a Huntsman to use it properly without the bipod, or at least that was how Fitz portrayed it. And Dwyer knew he wasn't a Huntsman.

He thought that, rather. He still didn't know much of anything.

"Really hoping I'll get to trade out my peashooter soon," Dwyer said as he turned the pistol around in his hands. He was back to his full 20 ammo count, though he imagined it would probably be in his best interest to either find something bigger, or a hell of a lot more ammunition, "It's saved my life already… just want something with a little more kick, y'know?"

"Ya' know…" the lieutenant said as he jostled his shoulder, drawing the eye to his battleaxe/shotgun, "I think I understand ya' well enough. If the Valean Military does end up showin' their faces, maybe they'll give you something better!" He said

Dwyer laughed, "Hey there, pal, mind if I help myself to your armory?"

"Only if I can help misself to the liquor cabinet!" Fitz said as he slapped his thigh, the playing making a smacking noise. The tension that was lifted slowly returned the closer they got to the front door, and by the time they were silently shuffling debris away, it was back in full force.

They pushed out through the front door. Fitz was really strong, like stronger than Dwyer as far as he could tell. And he didn't have magic video game powers, either. The man glowed a slight orange color as he shuffled some of the heavier objects aside, tossing a few of them like they were nothing.

The pair pressed on back into the main square, their goal looming down on them from up the street. A lot of the fires had begun to die down. The city was becoming quieter and darker by the minute. Ash clouds wafted in the breeze, their ambient warmth still unnervingly caressing the cheeks of the two as they strode down the street, weapons at the ready.

"I don' like it," Fitz said as he hoisted his axe close, ready for a full-body swing, "Too quiet now. streets were full of the things not too long ago."

"I didn't see any when I was working my way over to the station," Dwyer informed him, pistol cupped in proper firing etiquette, something else he apparently knew how to do, "Only ran into a fledgling until I got inside."

**WIS check failed!**

Dwyer could feel eyes on him, but he wasn't sure from where.

"I think they're watching us…" he said simply.

Fitz increased the pace while Dwyer followed behind. It was reassuring to not be alone out here in the elements, but with Fitz wounded, Dwyer wasn't sure he should be out here. The man was certainly a capable fighter, more so than Dwyer anyway, but in his wounded state he could barely handle a couple of these things, would he be able to beat off their leader while concussed and bleeding out? Probably not.

Scratch that, could DWYER even beat something like that? Every time he had run up against a Beowolf thus far, he had gotten his ass kicked. He had made it through by the skin of his teeth every single time. And now? It's certain that there is an Alpha out there, and not only that, it's smarter than others. That fledgling learned remarkably fast, and if this thing was almost people smart…

It would kill him if he fought it.

The quest loomed over him as he looked towards the top of his vision, seeing its contents laid out plain as day.

**I SEE FIRE**

-(Complete) Kill the Fledgling Beowolf

-Survive Grimm Onslaught

-(Complete) (Optional) Find a weapon

-(Optional) Defeat the Alpha Beowolf (0/1)

-(Optional) Save Citizens (3/10)

_Easier said than done,_ he decided. If that thing showed up, he wouldn't fight it. Maybe if he had found some better weapon, maybe if he had gotten stronger than he is now. Maybe then, but that wasn't the world he was living in. There were probably still people out there, and he'd help them for sure. Handling a few young wolves wouldn't be a problem here and there, especially with the two new level-ups he still had to spend. But once everyone was safe in the town hall, waiting for the military was probably their best bet.

**INT check failed!**

When that little box appeared, Dwyer was confused for a moment. Usually, there was some kind of consequence or other information given for the check… odd. _Guess for intelligence it's just not knowing something. And considering I don't know much of anything, it's not all that surprising._

Dwyer and Fitz pushed forward until they reached the front door. It was set in a finely carved oaken frame, with embellishments on it that ended in tips and points, much like pine needles. Which made sense considering the immaculate hand-carved symbols of pine trees in the center of both double doors. Inlaid with gold to stand out against the dark wood.

_Like the armor_, Dwyer realized. It was the symbol of this town, _Pinegrove, that's right! It makes sense now that I took a second to think about it._

Fitz looked up into the corner of the frame, where he stared into the fish eye lens of a security camera. He waved his hand and held his face closer for a moment before stepping back.

"Its a blessin' from the brothers that this place is still standin'. Folks inside are liable to be in a bad place right now, try to be gentle with 'em. They're not made of the stuff we are. Be strong for them," he explained. Dwyer wasn't even sure that he was made of the stuff that Fitz was talking about. It was more the superpowers than it was the character. But he still had a point. It was probably better to not be cracking wise and being cocky.

"Reel in the charm, then," Dwyer said without thinking.

"Not much ta' real in," Fitz said with a grin. Thank god he understood what he meant.

Dwyer saw a flicker of something on the man's face as he turned to meet the opening front door.

**CHA check (75%) passed**

He was steeling himself for what lay beyond those doors. Part of him thought when the doors opened, there would be nothing but the dead behind it. The other part wondered if there was even anything left to save. The part that won over was the one that said if he kept thinking like that, nobody would get out of this.

Dwyer was surprised how well the stat had let him read the man. In that brief instant, he probably would have missed that if not for his powers. He wished he had something reassuring to say to him, but the words weren't there. Either his CHA was too low, or his life experience wasn't there yet.

The doors parted as a metal shudder rose up into the frame on the other side. A pair of guards hurriedly mushed out of the door, flanking the pair on either side as they waved them in. Their rifles were hoisted and directed in front of them as they scanned the area.

"Good to see you, sir, the Mayor and Captain are waiting in the Mayor's office'," the younger guard said. He had matte blonde hair that was caked in ash, while the woman on the other side was a vibrant redhead. She didn't look as dirty, but her armor was beaten to hell and back.

"Glad to see you, too, Bennet. This is Dwyer. Good lad, saved my arse. Get him some armor, would'ya?" Fitz pressed on, sliding into his supervising role as he gave a few swift orders to the guards around him after he was done with Bennet, "Dwyer, keep yer' nose outta' trouble. Lend a hand where you can, but don't do anythin' stupid."

"Gotcha. Thanks, Fitz. Good luck in there."

"There're a lot more folks who need that more than I do, lad," the man said as his ears turned into the sounds around him. It sounded like a mass of people had gathered in the rooms further on. Dwyer couldn't even begin to tell how many there were, "But thanks all the same."

The man disappeared up the grand stairway in front of them, past another pair of guards at the top, and vanished into a hallway.

The mansion's interior was just as opulent as the outside. Long stone surfaces lined all of the counters and tables in immediate sight, and a great glowing crystal chandelier dangled overhead. It looked like the electricity was out, but the various surfaces and the chandelier itself were dotted with multitudinous candles and lanterns which lit the way.

Velvet rugs rest atop finely carved tile, they were soft to the touch, even through the thin shoes that Dwyer had strapped to his feet. It almost felt like a sin to be standing on top of them. Like somehow just being there was decreasing their overall value.

Portraits and murals dotted the faded green walls with hardwood trim on the lower half. The art pieces were each different, and yet more impressive than the last. Each one seemed to depict a different event in the town's history' from its founding to the later addition of the mansion. Dwyer couldn't exactly make out each of the plaques on the frames from where he stood. But he was sure each had a date and title associated with them.

"If you're done…" Bennet said, cutting through Dwyer's focus, "The Lt said we should try to find you some armor. You a fighter?" He said, asking in what felt like an uncertain tone.

**CHA check (100%) successful!**

It was.

Dwyer nodded, ignoring the prod, "Yeah. I met Fitz at the station when I went looking for weapons. He and I fended off some Beowolves before making our way over here. Don't tell me you guys don't have any spares lying around," Dwyer said, his cheeks rising up to squinted eyes.

"No," Bennet said, shaking his head. His blonde hair still swayed a bit, shaking loose small flakes of ash, "We don't just 'have spares'-"

"Bennet, don't be an ass. Just do as Lieutenant Fargray says," the woman said, her voice carrying a bit of an edge to it. Her red hair seemed to flicker like fire as her temper flared.

Bennett's own temper rose to meet hers, "We don't have the resources to arm every brawling wanderer that comes in the door! We barely have enough to stock the ACTUAL GUARDS," he said as he turned some of his vitriol at Dwyer.

"Screw you, man! I've been out there, too! I've almost died three or four times tonight to those things!" Dwyer stabbed as he was dragged back in.

Bennet stepped closer to Dwyer, looking down at him from his extra head of height, "I don't care what school you went to, what weapon you studied, or how many Grimm you've killed. You huntsmen never show up when you're needed. So I'm not giving you shit, not when there are actual men and women dying out there for the citizens of this town. If you want to scrounge around, be my guest."

"I'm not a 'Huntsman', asshole," Dwyer spat as he glared daggers at the taller man. The two boiled as they stared at one another, just when something might have happened-

"Will both of you knock it off?! Do you want the Grimm to come down right on top of us?! We're lucky they haven't done that already!" The woman shouted as she cut through their silence.

**INT check failed!**

_There it is again. Wasn't I thinking about something along those lines last time, too?_

"Scar, don't tell me you're taking his side-"

"There are only two sides tonight, Bennet: us and the Grimm. Shut up and pick one," she said, her orange irises burned a hole on both of their heads. She was a little older than Dwyer was, at least it seemed like it. Her strong facial features were still feminine, even pretty, but those thoughts were quickly subsumed by her presence. She didn't like taking people's shit, and from the look of it, she was done with both of theirs.

"I'm not getting him armor," Bennet said, unflinching in his resolve.

The woman walked closer, enough to bring her voice back down, "Then watch the damn door while I do what WE were ordered to do."

"Do what you want," Bennet said as he turned towards the door fixing his long gaze on it. He looked so relaxed, yet so ready for anything. Dwyer was sure he didn't like this guy, but he was the perfect picture of someone ready for action, he had to give him that.

"C'mon, kid," the woman said as she walked off towards the inner section of the house, not waiting to see if Dwyer caught up.

The boy muttered something to himself before turning away. Soft enough for nobody to hear but himself. It didn't make him feel any better.

As they traveled through the winding halls of the house, Dwyer noticed just how packed in these people were. They were basically shoulder to shoulder in some of these massive rooms. Passing by places like the main dining room and the ballroom was basically like looking at makeshift refugee camps. People looked disheveled and out of it, clutching what was left of their belongings and crying. There were hundreds of them in the house. Poor people.

Dwyer wanted to ask how many they had saved. But he knew it wouldn't be enough to justify asking the question.

The woman moved along silently, her eyes darting to the shudders that barred the windows shut. She looked at the people, the ones she had sworn to protect, and steeled her face every time they would look upon her. She and the other guards were the last line. This place was their last hope. Dwyer wanted to put himself in that mindset, he wanted to say something, anything. The rooms were loud, but Dwyer was certain he had never known silence like this.

"Don't hate Bennet," the woman said at last, as the two of them entered into a room separate off from where the majority of the citizens were. A makeshift armory had been set up in what looked like a study. Books and scrolls lined the walls, while a fireplace crackled loudly in the corner. The simple leather chair that had been set near it was laden with weaponry, as was the surface of the desk with ammunition. Enough for a small army, emphasis on SMALL, there wasn't nearly enough to protect these people for long. Dwyer felt better and worse at the same time that they might have military assistance on the way.

The boy walked up to the desk, appraising the weaponry and ammo he saw there. Much of it glowed with a green aura, with a scant few larger rounds glowing blue. The text window that appeared above them told him they were higher caliber, Heavy Rounds, "I only want to help. That's all I've done since I woke up outside," Dwyer stated simply as he began turning a High Caliber round over in his fingers. It was heavy, "I didn't start that, he did."

The woman sighed, her string features softening slightly as she approached a trunk near the desk with the Pinegrove symbol on it, she turned a key in the lock on the front, and flipped it open, revealing piecemeal pieces of armor, "He's not used to this sort of thing. He's the sniper, being down on the ground with the rest of the people makes him feel vulnerable… maybe even afraid."

"Odd way of showing it," Dwyer scoffed as he peeked inside the trunk. Nothing was above green. But as far as he was concerned, it was all worth more than its weight in gold… or whatever system of money they used here.

"I won't excuse him, I'm just asking you to understand. He went against orders, and that's one thing, but he's also my friend. I know how this must be affecting him."

"This is affecting everyone! But that doesn't mean he gets to be an asshole, or try to start a fight when there isn't one to be had. I mean, what the hell? I don't know what I'm doing out there, all of this all happened so fast, and I almost died-" Dwyer's face shifted as he slowly lost his hold on himself, he was still pretty young. The woman figured he couldn't be older than 18 or so. She was expecting him to start crying, or lose composure in some way… but he didn't. It was unsettling.

**Passive Skill: Gamer's Mind Activated**

His face morphed back into one of someone composed, of someone only thinking of the task at hand. It wasn't right, it's like all the feeling just suddenly vanished.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Just… drop it," he waved his hand before it retreated to the other one to help him pull the pieces of a mostly complete suit of guard armor from the bin. It looked like one of maybe two that could be worn effectively. Bennet hadn't been lying about the supply, "He can be that way. I have what I need, and I'm going to keep doing what I need to do. He's free to welch and moan about it, but at the end of the day it's not saving lives, so it doesn't matter."

It was a remarkably mature way to look at the situation, very detached from the emotions the woman was sure Dwyer was feeling. She couldn't really argue with that, though. Bennet had not given off the best of first impressions, and she doubted he would apologize for it. Looks like she was going to have to clean up after his mess, again.

"He's a good man underneath… I just want you to know that he doesn't represent all of us. We DO need all the help we can get, and we're in no position to be picky. If you're willing to help us, we'll do all we can for you, too... It was Dwyer, right?" She said, a remnant of a smile on her face, "I'm Scarlett."

Dwyer couldn't stay mad, at least for the moment. Both because of Gamer's Mind, and because he saw the man's side as well. Bennet was an ass, there was no arguing that, but at the same time, how would Dwyer have reacted to some random person showing up and getting offered crucial supplies? Probably not well, especially if it was from someone he respected, like Fitz.

He looked down at the armor he had pulled out.

**Tattered Guard Armor**

_**Barely still a suit of armor, it's only just barely better than wandering around naked. It still just might save your life, though.**_

**Damage Reduction: 5**

**Qualities: None**

With this armor, it looked like he wouldn't have to worry about Fledglings killing him anymore, at least assuming their damage didn't increase with his level. Also assuming they didn't sneak up on him. 5 points wasn't a lot, but it would have to be enough. Dwyer turned to Scarlett.

"I think this'll do nicely. Thanks again, Scarlett, I won't let you guys down," he said with a nod.

"See that you don't, otherwise I'll never hear the end of it from Lieutenant Fargray and Bennet. I'll let you get changed and situated. But when you're ready, the guards are all having a meeting in the garage on the other side of the house. Come meet up with us there," the woman walked across the room and over to the doorway, ready to close it behind her.

"Duly noted," Dwyer said as he flashed a thumbs up. Scarlet exited the room, the door shutting as she did. Dwyer wasted no time putting the armor in his inventory.

Right now his armor slot was being taken up by what was being called "Ratty Clothes", which didn't even have a description to speak of. Dwyer dragged them off of the slot, somewhat curious as to see what would happen.

They included underwear, as it turns out. So did the armor, though, so that was a plus.

_Dressed to kill_, he thought with a morbid chuckle, _Time to level up, gimme my sweet sweet perks and points._

**STR: 20**

**DEX: 10 → 15**

**CON: 21**

**INT: 18**

**WIS: 10 → 13**

**CHA: 10 → 12**

**Maximum Health Increased: 42 → 84**

**Maximum Mana Increased: 36 → 72**

**HP and MP restored to maximum values!**

**Special Attack "Kick" Fully Developed!**

**Kick Lv1 (Cost 5 MP): Unleash a brutal unarmed attack with your leg, dealing some damage, but creating space between yourself and your enemy. The object is shifted back 10 meters from where the kick originated. The larger the enemy, the less they are knocked back. Can knock back creatures up to the size of a human the full distance.**

**Please choose a Perk:**

**Man of Action**

**Speak louder than words!** You get shit done! When you turn in a quest, you receive 1.5x the amount of XP.

**Iron Flesh**

**Armor? I am the Armor! **Hitting you is like hitting a brick wall! Each rank of this perk grants 5% damage reduction, up to a maximum of 25%.

**Bachelor**

**You fine piece of ass~ **Whether it's your clothes, your looks, or your demeanor, people can't help but be drawn to you, especially the ladies. When interacting with someone who would find you attractive, your persuasion conversation option has a 25% higher rate or success.

**Brawler**

**Righty and Lefty are all I need!** Your fists are superior to any other! Each rank in this perk increases damage with Unarmed-type weapons by 10%, up to a maximum of 50%.

**Bladesman**

**A sharp approach- **You have an innate affinity with bladed weapons. Each rank in this perk increases damage with blade-type weapons by 10%, up to a maximum of 50%.

_So that kick actually is a special move, huh? Knockback is helpful, but I'll look at that in a bit_, Dwyer carefully looked over the selection of perks at his disposal, the list seemed to be growing. If this worked like other games with perks, he was either starting to meet stat or accomplishment prerequisites in order to get more to show up.

_I'm using a knife as my primary weapon right now, but my Kick and Unarmed combat isn't a bad idea, especially considering how often I'm getting disarmed…_ Dwyer thought as he remembered back to his encounters in the police station. The knife was all fine and good for as long as he had it, but he also wasn't sure that now was the time to decide to specialize in something, he was still too weak.

_I have to focus on things that will help me here and now. I can worry about specific weapon types and damage outputs later… besides, their increases are too small right now to do any good,_ that narrowed the list down. That means there's only three good choices at this point. Considering there still hasn't been a turned in quest, that's not worth looking into. Bachelor was nice, but as for surviving in this situation, he couldn't be sure of that one, either. Plus, he wasn't exactly trying to pick up chicks at the moment.

_That means Iron Flesh… which, if I'm reading this right, will add 5% of my armor value back into itself… it better round up to 1 or I swear to God-_

**Damage Reduction Increased: 5 → 6**

_Let's go math actually taking the side of the good guys for once. Still no Robocop, but-_

**"W**_e_ **s**_h_**o**_u_**l**_d_ **s**_e_**e **_t_**h**_e_ **n**_e_**w** _R_**o**_b_**o**_c_**o**_p_!" a shaky voice said as an apparition followed, this one wasn't like the others he saw before, it just looked like a husk… of something that got left behind. It made Dwyer sad for some reason, beyond the confusion, "**W**_o_**u**_l_**d **_y_**o**_u_ **t**_a_**k**_e _**u**_s_?"

The apparition was addressing the other one that followed its appearance. This one was of the shorter man, the younger one. That wicked grin on his face, it was unsettling to Dwyer, but at the same time… calming in a way.

"_Only if you buy popcorn,"_ it said with a giggle, "_I'm not gonna watch a beloved franchise crash and burn without some salty goodness to comfort me._"

"**Y**_o_**u'**_r_**e **_o_**n**!" It said as it went to move towards the wall as if to exit a scene, but its completely blank face turned to look at Dwyer as the other vanished into the wall, as if it was supposed to follow the shadow, "_I_**t **_w_**a**_n_**t**_s_ **y**_o_**u** _t_**h**_i_**s **_w_**a**_y_, **t**_h_**e -**_-_**-**_-_**-**_-_**-**_\- _**m**_a_**k**_e_ **i**_t_ **h**_a_**r**_d_ **t**_o_ **b**_l_**o**_c_**k **_y_**o**_u_**r **_e_**m**_o_**t**_i_**o**_n_**s**," it whispered as it addressed him. Its face didn't move… it was unnerving, like looking at a mannequin. What word had it wanted to say there?

"Block my emotions? You mean the Gamer's Mind?" Dwyer said as his brow furrowed, "Wait, what is 'It'?"

"_Y_**o**_u_ **a**_r_**e** _s_**t**_i_**l**_l _**p**_a_**c**_i_**f**_i_**e**_d_," it answered, as simply as one stated the time or the weather. There was no argument, no emotion, just a statement of something that was, without debate, the case.

"That… that doesn't answer my question. Why am I seeing you? Why can you hear me, when the others couldn't? You can hear me right?" Dwyer said, his eyes pleaded with the specter, he wanted it to tell him something, anything. He was worried he was starting to go crazy.

"**L**_o_**s**_e_ **a** _m_**i**_n_**d **_t_**o** _g_**a**_i_**n **_a_ **s**_o_**u**_l_," it nodded its head to each syllable, the movements were erratic and spastic as if it had no control. It movelessly shuffled across the floor, clipping through and furniture or equipment that crossed its path.

Dwyer darted across the room after it, his new dexterity helping him in the agile movements, "Wait! What does that mean?"

It said nothing more, it was gone from the room, and Dwyer was left alone. He stared at the wall where it vanished for a moment, as if trying to see something he hadn't before, but nothing came to him. Nothing but blank hardwood and green plaster.

_I really might be losing it,_ he thought as he moved away from the wall, and over to the door, _that is, if I ever had it to begin with…_

…**Loading**… **Loading**… **Loading**… **Loading**… **Loading**… **Loading**… **Loading**… **Loading**

The garage exited out of a back room, seemingly where one would hang coats or store cooler weather attire. It was a single sealed door that pushed out into the featureless concrete floors, with nothing but masonry surrounding the box of a room. A single light cord dangled from the ceiling, swinging back and forth subtly as it illuminated the features of the men and women in the room. They all sat huddled around what looked like a repurposed ping-pong table with a map of the town sprawled out on it.

Fitz was at the head of the table, standing right behind a man of slightly smaller stature, with a fresh wound wrapped in bandages where his left arm used to be. A grizzly buzz cut shortened his gray hair down to stubble, kept perfectly in line with a graying five o clock shadow to match. His eyes were an intense blue, a color that faded with age but still held focus and wisdom. He looked over all the men and women in the room once before his gaze lifted to Dwyer, starting as a glare, but becoming more of a straightforward stare. _Good sign_, Dwyer thought.

"So you're the young man who helped my Lieutenant? You have both my thanks, and the thanks of the city of Pinegrove," he said.

Dwyer nodded, noting that this was probably the captain, "Of course… sir?" He said, his mouth acting before his brain. Of course he was a sir.

"Captain Marron Mardes, so yes, you'll call me Sir. Is that understood?" His voice was unshakable, like this was the millionth time he had said it. He was experienced.

"Y-yes, Sir!"

"Good. Take a position around the table, we were discussing the plan," he said as a pair of guards shuffled over to the side, making some room for the boy. Dwyer descended the short wooden stairs in front of him, catching Fitz giving him an approving nod.

"Now, as I was saying," Marron said as he gestured to different points on the map, "There are three other bunkers stationed around the city, one to the west, by the supermarket, another under the recreational center, and the third is right here, where we are now. Before local comms went down, we were able to confirm that the other two were holding survivors. We weren't sure how many, but nevertheless, if there are people there it's our job to get them here," he looked around the room, appraising his forces. There were only a dozen and some change, not enough people to guard a whole town, barely enough for a rescue mission.

"City hall is the most fortified position in Pinegrove, and while those positions have provisions and defenses, we can't leave those people to their own devices. As such, the Lieutenant and I have formulated a rescue plan, one that if executed properly, should get the residents here, safe and sound, and we can ride out the storm until the military arrives."

"How do we know they'll come? Wouldn't they have shown up by now?" Bennet chimed in, earning a soul-crushing stare from the captain, "...Sir," he added.

The older man scoffed, "Approximately one hour ago, Mr. Dewitt informed the Lieutenant that he had saved a Faunus woman. She and Mr. Dewitt were close to the edge of town, so instead of fleeing to a shelter, she set off for the nearby military base. Assuming she makes it sometime soon, they should mobilize within the next two hours," Marron's facial expression never changed when he spoke, same tone, same look, he was completely under control of himself, "Even if she doesn't make it, by sunrise, they should be able to see the smoke."

Dwyer didn't even consider that she might not have made it. She was a strong lady, sure… but wounded and carrying her baby with her too? That was a long walk through what he expected was also Grimm-infested wilderness. He hoped she had made it, for her sake, and these people's.

"If there are no more interruptions…" Marron made a visual pass once more, hanging on Bennet for a moment longer than everyone else, "Our forces will be divided up into three teams: White, Green, and Black. White will maintain their post here, ready to bring in survivors and fend off any Grimm that follow behind them. Green will move towards the supermarket, and Black towards the recreation center," the captain gestured to small colored pawns on the town map, "Each team will secure their respective position, then send up their respective flare. Once they see the flare sent up in response from city hall, that team will escort the survivors here, and a second flare will be sent up to alert the final team. The military wasn't able to see them from outside town, but you'll see them just fine if you're sharp."

_Split up, huh? _Dwyer wasn't sure that he liked the plan from the inception. Splitting what few forces the town guard had into even smaller groups seemed like a poor choice, strength in numbers and all. But then again, what choice did they have?

The captain had obviously thought all of this out, with Fitz's input as well. They knew they couldn't just leave those people out there, there was a good chance they'd get killed by the Grimm without protection. Even in the bunkers, what if the Grimm got in? What if they ran out of food, or lost hope entirely… the blood would be on their hands. The hands of the people that swore to protect them.

**CHA check (60%) successful!**

He could see it in his eyes, the chief hated this idea. Hated sending young men and women out into the fire and flames to fight off beasts that wanted nothing more than their lives to spread out on the pavement. But he knew he had to. Hs knew that if he didn't show leadership, show control, that it was only a matter of time before it all fell apart. Someone had to make the tough calls, and he had made them before. Maybe he was the only one who could. Dwyer knew he would hate to be in that position, to have all these men and women look to you like you would single-handedly save them all… while knowing that a few would die to save the majority.

He looked at the old man, maybe a little more understanding than before, and kept listening, "Bronx, Allen, Shrew, Pewter, Colt, and Ferris, you're White team. Make sure you take up positions on higher ground in the manor and on the roof if it gets you better sightlines. That means you in particular, Allen," he said while looking at Bennet, "See what you can do about setting up a sniping post. We'll also be enlisting the help of our civil engineers to try and get the tower up and running again. No reason to put all of our eggs in one basket, so let's make sure to keep an eye on them as well."

Bennet and the rest of White team nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Black team will consist of Horne, Grove, Maxis, and Fargray," he said, moving to address Fitz directly, "You get those people secure fast as you can, and don't overdo it. The rest of you, those people are packed in there like sardines in a can. Rec center is always busy around the sunset, our time of attack. Odds are it's the more full bunker, be ready for heavy resistance."

"Aye, don't worry, Captain, we'll get it done," Fitz said confidently, his reassuring smile lighting up the room.

The captain's gaze almost showed concern for an instant, "See that you do. As for Green team, Blair, Garnet, and DeWitt. You'll be our smallest team, but as Lieutenant Fargray has assured me, Mr. Dewitt is as capable as a huntsmen in training. So for what we assume is the smallest group of people, it shouldn't be a problem," the captain eyed Dwyer directly, "I trust his faith is not misplaced?"

_Just remember to say 'Sir' say literally anything reassuring, and end it with 'Sir',_ "I swing a knife good, Sir," Dwyer said, the zest and verve his voice took on didn't help. The old man was almost caught off guard by what he said, while everyone else in the room was stifling laughter, Fitz especially, "U-uh, I mean…"

Marron held up his only remaining hand, and turned his head away, pursing his lips, "I understand you just fine. Keep your nerves in check, and look after my people. Officer Blair is our technical specialist, while Detective Garnet is one of the finest eyed people in our precinct. They'll watch your back, just see to it that you watch theirs. Clear?"

Dwyer kept his mouth shut this time, and nodded, as he'd rather not embarrass himself again… on the plus side, he did loosen the tension in the room, at least somewhat.

"You all have your assignments, we depart for our respective missions in 15 minutes. Gather what you can and meet at the front door. Dismissed," the old man said as he walked away from the table. Bennet and white team moved out just behind him. They had work to do on the home front, only sensible that they get started now.

Scarlett crossed the room and approached Dwyer, followed close behind by another man in armor. He removed his helmet as he got closer, revealing his jet black hair with salt and pepper streaks, completely interrupted by the panther ears that poked out of the top of his head. Dwyer tried not to stare, "I hope you swing that knife good enough to actually hit the Grimm," Scarlett said, offering a giggle that was a little more feminine than Dwyer had expected.

The panther-eared man placed a hand on her shoulder, a serious look on his face, "C'mon, Blair, don't make fun of the kid-" he said stone-faced, "He swing knife REAL good. He kill Grimm speedy!" He burst out laughing, earning the same from Scarlett. Dwyer's heart couldn't take it, the whiplash.

"Ok, ok! I get it. Ha ha," he said, waving his hand, trying not to betray what he actually wanted to say with a chuckle, "Look, I don't know how good I am at working with people, don't have a lot of a frame of reference-"

The detective draped his arm over his shoulder, sinking down to Dwyer's eye level a few inches down, "Dewey, Dewey, Dewey, you worry too much. You've got the ace detective and the prettiest tech genius on the force on your six. This'll be a breeze."

"Never gonna happen, Detective," Scarlet said as she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. A common occurrence, Dwyer suspected.

Garnet whispered into Dwyer's ear, "Take a tip from the master, when they say that, it means they're into you," he said with a wink and a twitch of one of his ears. He patted Dwyer on the back, who quickly turned rosy-faced, his spine shooting up straight. He stood back up, amusedly admiring Dwyer, before looking back at Scarlett.

Scarlett slugged Garnet in the shoulder, playfully, but it sounded like the armor contributed to the man not doubling over, "Don't listen to him. Unless you want to be the kind of guy women hate-"

Garnet put his hands up in front of him, and parted them slowly as if revealing something in the air, "Read: 'Can't get enough of'."

Dwyer looked between the both of them, in almost a haze. Going from no social interaction to this much all at once was jarring, even if refreshing at the same time, "Read: 'I'm a braying jackass'," Scarlett said as she mimicked his hand motion, before turning back to Dwyer, "I'm sure you'll do just fine. If you got Lieutenant Fargray to speak highly of you, you're the real deal. He doesn't hand out compliments lightly."

"That seems oddly out of character… at least from what I've seen," Dwyer said, the idea not really clicking with him. Fitz didn't seem like the type to not acknowledge skill.

"When you're praised as much as I was as a lad, you tend to be a bit stingy on the compliments" Fitz said as he entered the conversation, "Don' wanna build up too much undue confidence."

"I just… I dunno. I don't think the spotlight has ever been on me like this… I don't know that i can live up to everyone's expectations," the boy said, rubbing the back of his head, "People's lives are on the line, and I'm new to- well, everything."

Garnet and Scarlett exchanged glances before they both looked to Fitz, who had an amused look in his eye. The lieutenant looked to the pair of them, and tipped his head towards Dwyer, with a knowing smile on his face. Garnet sighed and placed his hand on Dwyer's shoulder again. Very, touchy-feely, he was.

"My first day on the force was a nightmare," he said as he began to reminisce, his panther ears dipping down closer to his head as he relived the memories, "I vividly remember walking up to the front desk for the first time. Not things like people or the time of day but… the dumb stuff. Like the smell of stale coffee or the way, my uniform itched my neck. I walked up to the girl at the desk, looked her dead in the eye, and… well… I-"

"He sneezed in her face," Scarlett finished.

"I sneezed in her face, yes," he deadpanned.

"I saw it, wasn't just a sneeze, it was full snot. We're talking allergy season-" Fitz chipped in, his boisterous addition earning a grin from Dwyer.

"THANK you for helping L-T," he sighed, "As I busy cleaning myself up, the chief walks in, tells me to go and start my beat out by the gates. So I go out there, walk around, the usual. I see some kids playing where they shouldn't out in front of the town, so you know, I do my job, tell them to go back inside, and the little punks are like 'no you pussy-eared weirdo'. Racist, I think, but it was also just kids, so there was a fifty fifty shot they didn't know it at the time."

Racist? Why? Because he had cat ears? Who cares? Garnet looked and acted just like a normal person save for that one feature, Dwyer couldn't even wrap his head around hating someone for something as dumb as that. Though at the same time… he felt like it wouldn't really surprise him if that were the case.

"So I go out there, grab one by the arm, and I tell them to get back inside or I was gonna call their parents. The brat's friends got into place right behind me, and actually managed to push me over. I'm talking flat on my ass, and before I can tell which way is up, they take off with my helmet back into town," he put a hand on his hip, and looked up, shutting his eyes, "I chased them through town for what felt like forever, but they gave me the slip. I did find my helmet, though… covered in rotting fruit in the supermarket dumpster."

"That… that probably didn't smell very good, did it?" Dwyer stated, not sure of what to say. Fitz was smirking up a storm, while Scarlett was more trying to hold it in for Garnet's sake.

"Try: 'haven't eaten an apple since' and you'd be dead on the money. But rules are rules. I wash out the thing as best I can, and head back to HQ when my shift is over. Day sucks, the helmet still smells, and it's still early enough that the girl behind the desk was still there when I got back. I give her a wide berth and dip into the offices, where I go and slink down at my desk. My shift ends an hour or so of hiding from the Captain later. So I head off back for my apartment towards the edge of town. I'm sulking' only seeing all the happy people around me, and how good they have it, and I just want to go to sleep, just want the day to be over. But I get to the steps of my building, and who do I see off in the alley next to it?"

"The kid?" Dwyer wagered.

"Shh, I love this part," Scarlett said.

Garnet nods, looking right into Dwyer's eyes, "The kid, same one from earlier, only he's not in a good spot right now. Some jerk is looking over him, fist freshly bloodied from a punch, and the kid is sitting there holding his cheek and choking back tears. So I'm standing there, smelling like rotting fruit, my tailbone hurts and my pride is destroyed, but I know I have to do something, right?" He clenches his other fist now, pulling it from his hip, "but I'm thinking: what if I mess up? What if I make it worse? What if I can't do anything? And so on and so forth, blah blah blah blah blah. But while I'm standing there, he hits the kid again. Before I know what's happening, my fist is in his jaw, he's on the ground, and I'm reading him his rights as I slap his hands in cuffs."

"Arse's face was mighty ugly when the detective was done with 'em."

"But I realized something after I brought that guy in. The only time when I wasn't afraid to do something was when I wasn't asking myself 'what if' i just did. I knew what to do, doesn't take a genius to figure it out. But I was so up in my own head that I didn't let myself do what I knew to do. You get what I'm saying?"

Dwyer pursed his lips, "I'm thinking about it too much?"

"Bingo."

Dwyer couldn't believe it was all that simple. The old 'turn your brain off' idea wasn't anything new. It was the oldest thing in the history of ever, and yet… it made sense. He had been thinking about all of this all nonstop. And when he hadn't been thinking, when he had let instinct take over, like in the police station, saving Fitz, he worked better and faster than normal. Was that it, he just had to stop thinking about it?

"... but if I don't think about it, then won't-" Dwyer started.

"Nope! Don't worry! Between all of us guards, and you with us, there's nothing we can't do," he said with a smile as he put up his index finger to Dwyer, "We'll save these people, beat back the Grimm, and get through this! So let's hear you say it!"

Dwyer nervously exchanged glances with Scarlett and Garnet, and shared a meek glance towards Fitz's once again firmly gentle face, "We can do it?" Dwyer choked.

"Louder! You wanna meow? Or do you wanna roar?!"

_Fuck it, it's better than getting into my head about it_, "We can do it!"

"Damn right! C'mon, let's get all our crap together and get moving! Those folks won't save themselves!"


End file.
